


a bicycle made for two (or three)

by lazarusthefirst



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Getting Together, Kidfic, M/M, au - no exy, single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 98,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: The other hindrance was due to the fact that Santa had been very generous this year, which left Jean standing on a patch of sidewalk he’d kicked clear himself, holding his four year old daughter’s hand and wondering how he was going to get all of their stuff plus the Pink Unicorn Princess Dream House up four flights of stairs without something breaking.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey it's a kidfic! no exy this time either but I came up with their daughter like a year ago and I have to write her now or I'll lose my mind
> 
> title is taken from a song my mum used to sing to my sister when she was a baby. It's technically about a dude who's sweet on a gal but it's a childhood song for me

In hindsight, attempting to move into a new apartment on January 2nd had been optimistic at best. For one thing New York was four feet deep in snow, and even the neighbourhood kids with nothing better to do than shovel it for dollars couldn’t keep up. The other hindrance was due to the fact that Santa had been very generous this year, which left Jean standing on a patch of sidewalk he’d kicked clear himself, holding his four year old daughter’s hand and wondering how he was going to get all of their stuff plus the Pink Unicorn Princess Dream House up four flights of stairs without something breaking.

‘Are we going to live here now?’ Maddie asked slowly, her mittened hand in Jean’s bare one.

Jean frowned up at the building. ‘If we can get up the stairs,’ he told her. ‘Are you gonna help me?’

Maddie nodded, so he handed her his satchel and told her to keep it safe.

‘The most important things are the smallest,’ he reminded her with a smile. She returned it, her grey eyes mirroring his own. She was a resilient little thing, with her mother’s face and her father’s nature. Sometimes Jean thought she was too like him, and he had to remind himself that that wasn’t a good thing.

The first trip up the stairs was a slow one, with Madeleine leading the way carrying the satchel and Jean following her with their two heaviest suitcases. He had the loan of a moving van for the afternoon, but anything that got left on the sidewalk too long in this part of Queens either got stolen or arrested. But then, parenthood had made Jean quite a paranoid individual.

‘Papa, what’s in this bag?’ Madeleine asked, as they stomped up the stairs together.

‘My wallet,’ Jean panted. ‘Some important papers. Your painting. That kind of stuff.’

Madeleine nodded. ‘I will look after it,’ she promised him.

Maddie had been slow in learning how to talk. Now, if she were fourteen instead of four, Jean would have said she considered her words carefully. As it was, he treasured every one she uttered and looked forward to the next one.

Their new home was four doors down on the left, and didn’t seem quite as bad as it had when Jean had viewed it a few weeks ago. Technically he could afford a better building than this, but being an artist meant his income was uncertain at best, and there was no point in giving Madeleine a big bedroom until she turned 18 and then have no money to send her to college. A few hundred dollars saved every month on a shittier apartment could add up to another year of tuition. Maybe she’d need braces or want to go to space camp. This was the kind of math that kept Jean up at night, and he’d illustrate cereal boxes and design toilet paper packaging if that would make those numbers shrink.

It was a two bedroom apartment, and Jean had gotten a good deal by protesting that his daughter would be very cramped in the much smaller second bedroom. He hadn’t bothered to mention that his daughter hadn’t yet reached three feet in height and shared Jean’s bed more often than not. But Maddie was one of those strange creatures who enjoyed change, and threw herself into the task of arranging her clothes in her new bedroom, and neatly placing Jean’s in a pile on his bed. Jean made her use the toilet before she got too engrossed in ferrying clothes back and forth across their little home, and then locked the bathroom and kitchen door so she couldn’t get into any trouble. He locked the apartment door securely and then stared at it for a few moments before running back down the four flights of stairs to the van.

There was one more bag of their assorted odds and ends that they’d either been too attached to or hadn’t wanted to replace, and then the Dream House. Jean spent a short minute wrestling with the idea of juggling both, then pictured Madeleine’s face if he dropped the house. His thighs burned as he laboured up the stairs again, the suitcase rattling noisily in his hand. He hoped that good steak knife he was partial to hadn’t caused any casualties.

After checking on Madeleine, who was peacefully refolding their underpants and socks on her bed, he made the final trip down to the van for the Dream House. Jean was dithering a bit over the van, wondering if he could call someone to come and get it rather than dislodge Madeleine again. He supposed he could treat her some hot cocoa. They could stretch to moving-day treats.

It was a rickety trip up the stairs. Jean had told Madeleine to make sure all of the doors and windows were secured, but he could hear all the pieces rolling around inside every time he took a step. If a glittery shoe or unicorn baby ended up missing in action Jean would be sleeping in the hallway.

At last he made it to their floor. He’d been turning around at every landing to see if he could spot anything pink or glittering on the steps behind him, just in case, so it had been a significantly longer journey. Jean was feeling hot and tired despite the low temperatures and just wanted a cup of tea and his sketchpad. He’d sit and draw Madeleine’s soft baby cheeks and plush lips and shade in her grey eyes, and he would find his peace that way.

Jean juggled the house around in his arms as he tried to get the key out of his pocket. Countless unicorn beings and their accessories slid around noisily inside, and the pink and gold mailbox was poking into his ribs.

The key dropped from his clumsy fingers and clattered to the floor. Jean smothered a curse. He tried to find a graceful way to lower the dream house to the floor and was mostly successful, except for the whole slew of tiny pieces that rolled out of an unsecured side window.

‘Sh - sugar,’ Jean cursed feebly, dropped to one knee. The thing was damn heavy, and now he had to find a clear spot to set it down amongst the casualties.

‘Can I help?’ asked a pleasant voice.

Jean couldn’t swivel to see who it belonged to so he had to crane his neck warily.

The man watching him was about his age, wearing dark jeans and what looked like four coats. He had a woolly hat in his hand and a concerned expression on his face.

‘I’m fine,’ Jean said, who took stranger danger as seriously as any single parent. ‘Thank you.’

The stranger took a step forward. Jean couldn’t help noticing that his boots were very nice and fashionable, and his hair was neat and stylish. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, twisting his hat in his hands. ‘You seem to have dropped a lot of unicorns.’

Jean couldn’t help snorting at the confused hesitation. ‘If you really want to pick them up then be my guest,’ he allowed, finally setting the house down and grabbing his key before things could escalate.

He set about retrieving all the dropped pieces, and to his surprise found himself with company. The stranger was dutifully picking up stray items; one had bounced almost two doors down. He returned to Jean with a handful of assorted pink plastic, and tipped them in through the open second story window.

‘I think we got them all,’ he said conversationally, straightening up.

‘Hope so,’ said Jean, making sure the window was tightly secured this time. He intended to say a quick thanks and farewell so that the stranger would go before he had to unlock the door.

But the man’s eyes had brightened as he spotted something on the ground.

‘Hang on,’ he said, ducking down to Jean’s level. He reached into a gap by the doorframe and emerged with a tiny silver hairbrush, which he held up so he could squint at it.

‘This was made for very tiny hands,’ he said admiringly. Jean had broken out in a cold sweat at having almost lost Maddie’s _favourite unicorn hairbrush_ , and was allowing himself a moment to close his eyes and recover.

‘Are you ok?’

Jean just held out his hand. ‘Thank you for finding that,’ he said quietly. ‘There’s no tiny unicorn hairbrush store I could have replaced this at.’

The man grinned, and it brightened his eyes. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘Is it very important to someone?’

Jean nodded. ‘My daughter,’ he allowed. ‘She’s four.’

The man nodded. ‘Ok - and, like, thank god,’ he said. He gestured over his shoulder. ‘Because the dude in 4A collects porcelain dolls, and we just don’t need any more weirdness on this floor.’

Jean frowned. They were both still crouched beside the doll house. ‘How do you know he collects dolls?’ he asked.

The man’s eyes widened. ‘Because every other week it’s like a scene from _The Shining._ They’re delivered while he’s at work but they don’t fit in his mailbox, so we get eyeballed by this horrific porcelain creature with blonde ringlets in a see-through box at the top of the stairs. He even warned me not to steal them once.’

Jean always appreciated getting the skinny on his neighbours from the most reliable source. Apart from the multiple layers situation, Jean seemed to have found a relatively normal resident.

‘Who else is on this floor?’ he asked, as they both stood up to stretch their legs.

The man smiled. ‘Mr. Regan AKA the Doll Collector is the only one you have to worry about. I’m in 4B, and there’s a couple and their son in 4C - they’re really nice - and then it’s you.’ He looked expectantly at Jean. ‘Is it just you and your daughter?’

Jean nodded. ‘Just us,’ he confirmed. ‘I really should be getting back to her.’

The man nodded. ‘Oh, sure, yeah. I’m just on my way to work. It was nice meeting you - I’m Jeremy, by the way.’

He stuck out his hand politely, and Jean shook it. ‘Jean,’ he said. No need to give out Madeleine’s name. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ Jeremy smiled again, and Jean thought it was good that he had at least one neighbour who probably wouldn’t steal his mail.

Madeleine didn’t notice anything amiss about the dream house. In her father’s absence she had unpacked all of their clothes and organised them in some type of way on their beds. The drawers were a little too heavy for her.

‘Very good, Madeleine,’ Jean praised. ‘You’ve done a lot of work, thank you. Do you want to go get some hot cocoa? I have to bring the van back.’

Madeleine never turned down chocolate, so they got bundled up in their coats and woollens again and abandoned the unpacking.

‘Will we have to go down the stairs every day Papa?’ Madeleine asked, leading the way very slowly down.

‘Yes, so you must always hold on to the handrail carefully,’ Jean replied, bringing up the rear. Cheap rent meant no elevator; another sacrifice cheerfully made in the name of Maddie’s hypothetical college career.

It was starting to snow, but the van was thankfully still where they’d left it. Jean was searching his pockets for the right key when Maddie said quietly, ‘Papa that man is wearing three coats.’

Jean looked up and saw Jeremy standing on the corner, frowning at his phone. With both Moreau’s staring at him, Jeremy looked up.

‘Oh, hello again,’ he said pleasantly. His eyes alighted on Madeleine. ‘Oh, this must be a unicorn princess.’

Madeleine’s jaw dropped. ‘Papa how did he know?’ she whispered excitedly, clutching his trouser leg. Jean just shrugged innocently at her.

Emboldened, Maddie asked, ‘Why are you wearing so many coats?’

‘Madeleine,’ Jean said warningly, but Jeremy was smiling.

‘I’m not really,’ he explained, his eyes twinkling at her. ‘It’s just one coat, but a lot of layers underneath because I get very cold.’ He looked with approval at her own winter clothes. ‘You’re very well wrapped up too.’

‘Papa makes me,’ Madeleine said.

‘Yes he does,’ Jean said patting her head. ‘Come on, into the van.’

He disliked putting her in the front, but the van had an airbag and a good seatbelt, and Jean would drive very slowly. Once he got her strapped in he turned back to Jeremy.

‘Where are you headed?’ he asked. He felt an unfamiliar spark of interest when Jeremy turned his dark eyes on him.

‘Work,’ he said. His nose was already red from the cold. ‘It’s a club in the East Village but it has a bar that opens early too.’

Jean gestured at the truck. ‘Want a ride?’ he asked. ‘I have to drop this off in Williamsburg, but it’s close to the subway.’

But Jeremy looked thrilled. ‘Oh, that’d be great, thanks. It’s a shorter train from there anyways.’

So Jeremy hopped in beside Madeleine and buckled up, and they headed off together towards Brooklyn.

After politely admiring Madeleine’s mittens, Jeremy asked, ’So Jean, what do you do?’

Jean had a hundred answers to that question, and he chose the simplest. ‘I’m an illustrator,’ he replied. ‘Children’s books.’

‘Oh, wow,’ said Jeremy, his enthusiasm probably for Madeleine’s benefit. ‘That’s so interesting. Anything I’d know?’

Jean slanted a glance at him. ‘Are you a fan of _Silly Lily_?’

‘It’s my favourite,’ Jeremy replied seriously.

‘Mine too,’ said Madeleine.

They both smiled at her, and then at each other. ‘And what do you do?’ Jeremy asked Madeleine, looking away from Jean, who tried to concentrate on the road.

‘I clean Papa’s paintbrushes,’ Madeleine said importantly.

Jean snorted gently. ‘You do not,’ he said.

‘I did once,’ insisted Madeleine.

‘Tell Jeremy what you like to do,’ Jean told her. He was eager to get her conversing with other people; he encouraged playing with children at the park and the playground, but Madeleine was a very self-contained kind of child.

‘I, uh …’ Madeleine found herself at a loss.

‘Do you paint too?’ Jeremy asked gently.

‘Yes. But I use my fingers,’ Madeleine said, wiggling them at him. ‘Papa paints on the big canvass,’ - She pronounced the word importantly - ‘and people buy them. They don’t buy mine, though.’

Madeleine was just stating facts, as she did, in case Jeremy was under the wrong impression about who was the breadwinner in their family, but Jeremy said, ‘Well, how much would one of yours cost?’

Madeleine thought very hard about this. ‘One dollar,’ she told him.

Jeremy nodded, and dug around in his back pocket. ‘Alright,’ he said, straightening it out. ‘One dollar. Here you go.’

He offered the dollar. Madeleine looked at Jean swiftly, who nodded, and then she took the dollar carefully from Jeremy, like she thought it might be a joke. Jean could happily have driven Jeremy all the way to the East Village just for that.

‘What do you say, Madeleine?’ Jean asked.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘Anything else?’ Jean prompted.

Madeleine looked at him for help, so he said quietly, ‘What do I always ask you?’

Madeleine gasped softly as she finally realised what was happening. ‘What’s your poison!’ she practically shrieked at Jeremy.

Jean smothered a laugh as Jeremy couldn’t hold back his. ‘That’s usually my line,’ he said, eyes sparkling in Jean’s direction.

Jean, experiencing once again the perils of being parroted by your child, clarified, ’She means what would you like her to paint.’ He fiddled with the heating on the van’s dash because Jeremy’s nose was still a little red.

‘Oh, well anything you like,’ Jeremy said. Then he paused. ‘I do really like space,’ he said.

‘I’m sure we can come up with something you’ll like,’ Jean said, coming to his daughter’s rescue. Madeleine’s head was firmly buried in the earth; he wasn’t sure she even knew about planets.

‘So you paint, too?’ Jeremy asked Jean, once Madeleine was busy carefully tucking her commission money away in Jean’s wallet.

Jean nodded. They were idling in traffic, but the Williamsburg bridge was in sight.

‘On the side, yeah,’ he said. ‘I have some things hanging in a small gallery near here - this is our old neighbourhood. But painting doesn’t always pay the bills.’

‘So you’re an artist,’ Jeremy mused. ‘And do you like illustrating?’

Jean shrugged. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘It’s fairly reliable income. But it’s always someone else’s story that I’m telling. So, it’s hard to get too attached to what I’m creating.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Makes sense,’ he said.

‘How long have you been bartending for?’

Jeremy thought about it. ‘Uh, about two years where I am now,’ he said. ‘I have a degree in physics, but I got a bit stuck for money so I did bar work. Now I can’t quite get out,’ he added with a smile.

Jean nodded, thinking about that. Another slave to the capitalist machine. He wondered if the money could be so good if Jeremy was living in the same sub-par apartment building that he was.

Jeremy had risen very high in Madeleine’s estimation. After they dropped him off at the subway station she chattered about him all the way to the moving depot, wondering aloud what he did at his job (“bartending” was lost on her) and asking Jean for a bit more information regarding space.

‘It’s what’s up there,’ Jean said, pointing to the sky. ‘Where the stars live. We can look at some pictures tonight.’ If nothing else it would be a good educational experience. Maddie wouldn’t be starting Kindergarten until September, but Jean wanted to arm her with as much information as he could before her love of learning became the chore of studying.

Now that they were no longer driving Jean became aware of just how cold it was, so they hightailed it to their favourite cafe for hot cocoa and s’mores.

‘We’ll have to find a new favourite cafe in Astoria,’ Jean told Madeleine, wiping a smudge of chocolate from her cheek.

‘How?’ Madeleine asked, stirring her drink with a long silver spoon.

Jean smiled at her. ‘We’ll just have to try them all.’

 

 *

 

 

Jeremy didn’t mind bartending at one of the most popular clubs in the East Village, but he truly hated the single shift per week that he was required to work in the bar downstairs. During midweek, Hennessy’s was full of professional drinkers who only wanted to be left alone, and on the weekend it was usually populated by hen parties and kids with fake IDs. Today was the former, so Jeremy had to spend 8 hours trying to make conversation with men and women who only had eyes for the bottom of their glasses, and the occasional group of hipsters who wanted to be served from jam jars with mint leaves. Jeremy didn’t mind that sort of thing, but it was club drinking these people wanted, and it was currently 2pm on a Thursday, so it all seemed a bit contrived.

However, today he had a little bit more to think about than usual. Normally on these shifts Jeremy mourned all the physics he could be studying instead of pouring shitty craft beer for college kids living the life he secretly wanted. But today his mind with occupied by a sweet little girl and her very attractive father.

Thus far, Jeremy’s neighbours had been mainly nice couples, weird shouty couples, old people, and general weirdos. There was the occasional pretty girl or guy that rented for a few months, but Jeremy’s hours were long and irregular and he never seemed to manage to make any friends that stuck. He had 900 friends on Facebook but no one who he’d call to help him get rid of a dead body.

Not that he’d be calling Jean in a situation like that. That would be wildly irresponsible.

He kept himself busy, cleaning tables and thinking up funny things to write on the chalkboard outside. He had a kind word for the poor souls who’d stumbled in looking to forget something awful, and chatted to whoever would give him the time of day. But there were many idle moments between the hours of 2 and 10pm, and Jeremy spent a lot of them thinking about the new little family on his floor.

New York was a city of handsome individuals but Jean would make anyone stop and stare. He was tall and broad shouldered, and he had been wearing the hell out of that navy sweater when Jeremy had happened upon him trying to be a good father in their humble hallway. And they seemed to have gotten along well. It would be nice, Jeremy thought, if he could have a friend in the building. Someone who’d notice if he went missing and not just because he didn’t show up for work.

After a long and boring day the bar finally started to liven up, just in time for Jeremy’s shift to end. Finding nothing in particular that he wanted to go home to and having been starved of human interaction all evening, Jeremy headed up to the club to get a drink on the house and wait for someone to come along who would talk to him.

Jeremy got along very well with all his colleagues. Between the bar staff, the waiters, the bouncers and the hosts, there were almost 50 people on staff at The Basilica, and Jeremy knew them all.

The Basilica was a huge venue divided into one large arena built like the inside of a church for the techno lovers, and two smaller settings the level above where intimacy and hedonism were more the order of the day. Jeremy had stared in the arena but quickly found himself moved upstairs due to his ability to turn “this is my first visit” into “We’ll have the usual”. He was a people person, and it got him noticed, particularly by the owner and manager, Dan.

‘How’s Hennessy’s?’ she asked as usual, passing Jeremy as he perched on a high stool and twirled his phone around on the polished marble bar counter. She was wearing a tight glitzy dress and stacked high heels and looked as dangerous as she always did.

‘Fine,’ replied Jeremy, as she twirled behind the bar to get him a drink. The club had yet to open and the first DJ was downstairs warming up for Dan’s partner, Matt. The beats were mellow but inviting, and Jeremy nodded his head along as the wait staff on for tonight started to filter in. ‘There was a hungover hen party in for a few hours, they drank almost all the champagne. There was a lot of Instagramming going on, though. Especially over at the grotto.’

Dan grinned. ‘Very good,’ she said, mixing him up a delightfully bright cocktail called a Striptease. It was bright blue and had a line of stinging strawberry syrup along the wide rim of the glass. ‘You got your name on it yet?’

Jeremy gave her a smile as bright as his drink. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Alas, the love of my life has not yet made their way on to my stage.’

The grotto was yet another reference to the fact that the Basilica was built on the remains of an old church that had burned down about fifty years ago. After the Church had stripped it of all religious paraphernalia it had been turned, unsuccessfully, into a bakery, a restaurant, a garage, and a textiles warehouse. But Dan and Matt had helped turn it into one of the post popular clubs in Manhattan, and the doors had stayed open after they’d bought out the original owner two years ago, just after Jeremy had started working there.

Dan wasn’t religious, and she certainly didn’t seem superstitious, but the whole design of the place was oddly respectful of the club’s origins, in a fairly progressive sense. The grotto was a continuation of that; it took up the entire back wall of the Grotto and was composed of bricks and fake flowers and fairy lights that changed with the seasons. It invited people to leave their name and the name of a person they loved tucked between the bricks and flowers for blessings or good luck or whatever you chose to believe. Patrons of Hennessy’s left lipsticked napkins and key tags and bandaids and post-its and sometimes just wrote on the wall itself, and thanks to social media the grotto was gaining a bit of a following.

Dan poured herself a small shot of tequila to get the night started. ‘Who said it has to be the love of your life?’ she asked, quirking an eyebrow. ‘You must know half of Manhattan by now from working in here. Surely someone’s caught your eye.’

Plenty of people had. Jeremy liked men and women and had gone home with both on many occasions. He’d have a good time, and then wake up the next morning and not be into it anymore. Sex was sex but any time he tried to go deeper it just felt strange to him, and kind of awkward. Jeremy had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t mature enough for a relationship, and had now kind of just stopped trying.

Truthfully, Jeremy felt like he was looking for something that he’d only know once he’d found it.

Dan left him alone after that so she could get about the business of opening up. Jeremy chatted with the wait staff as they flitted past, but they were too busy to stop and converse properly. As patrons began filling up the rooms and the bass started thudding downstairs, Jeremy slipped away from the bar.

He wandered through the lounges, stopping to engage with regular customers who knew him and liked his smile, but never staying long. He accepted a few drinks and returned some warm smiles, but he could only see the prospect of a single serving night of fun in those smiles.

Outside the club he spent a few minutes chatting to tonight’s bouncers and talking up the crowd. A few passer by’s looking for some fun joined the queue, and Jeremy slipped away again.

It was bitterly cold outside. Jeremy was wrapped up in his four layers again - t-shirt, flannel shirt, hoody, and coat - but his ears and nose burned and his legs felt like blocks of ice. As someone who grew up in Georgia, the cold did not suit him. As someone who tried so hard to put on body fat but couldn’t manage to gain any chub, it _really_ didn’t suit him. Jeremy spent many a cold morning glaring at his ribs in the mirror and wishing some of his hard-won muscle could turn into insulation.

He listened to music on the train home and stuck out his tongue at a little girl because she’d done it first. The girl gave him a big gap-toothed grin in response. Jeremy would liked to have struck up a conversation with her, but didn’t want to freak her mother out.

He walked the six blocks from the station to his apartment, hurrying as much as he could to get in out of the cold. His phone had died as he’d spent more time mindlessly browsing the internet today than usual, so all he had to listen to were the sounds of Astoria at midnight.

As he reached his building, however, he heard something else that made him crane his neck back and look up at the sky. It was an unusually clear, cloudless night over New York, and as well as a few stars Jeremy could see on the roof two arms - one big, one very small - pointing up at the sky.

‘What’s that one?’ he heard a tiny little voice ask.

‘Let me check,’ said another deeper, accented voice. Jeremy had been wondering about that accent all day.

It drew him upstairs, all the way to the roof. He crept through the door but stayed just beside it, not wanting to intrude on their little family moment but feeling a hunger in his soul for the kindness he could hear in Jean’s voice.

‘Find the unicorn one, Papa,’ Madeleine was asking.

‘Madeleine, I don’t think it actually looks like a unicorn,’ Jean replied gently. He was holding his daughter in his arms, with their backs to Jeremy. ‘I mean, a pegasus.’

‘Then why is it called that?’

‘Scientists let the creative power go to their heads,’ replied Jean gravely. Jeremy stifled a laugh against his sleeve. He was freezing still, but didn’t go back inside.

‘I think that’s the little bear, Maddie,’ Jean said suddenly. Jeremy could see him pointing. ‘Remember, we found the big bear earlier.’

‘Ursa Major,’ Madeleine reminded him, and Jean laughed softly.

‘Right, that’s right,’ he said. He gave a little cough and shifted his arms slightly so Madeleine was now on his other side.

‘I think this will be too much black paint,’ Madeleine said, sounding doubtful.

‘Well, we don’t have to paint the night sky,’ Jean said. ‘Remember all the galaxies we looked at today, and how many colours they had?’

‘I know,’ Madeleine said, tipping her head back to look up as high as she could. Her soft black curls, light as feathers, were gathered in the collar of her coat. ‘I just wanted to look at it.’

Jean turned his head slightly to kiss her cheek, and Jeremy shrank back. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘It’s very exciting. Is that why you couldn’t sleep?’

‘Yes. Can I start my painting for Jeremy tomorrow?’

Jeremy’s heart did a funny little wiggle.

‘Yes, if you like. Papa has to do some work first and then we’re gonna take a little walk, but we can paint in the afternoon.’

‘Ok.’ Maddie yawned, and leaned her head against Jean’s.

Jeremy saw this as his cue, and crept quietly back inside and down the stairs.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing ahead of schedule with this so hopefully the dropped plot lines will be minimal lol
> 
> enjoy! <3

Over the next few days Jean managed to avoid the strange doll-man in 4A and make friends with the nice family in 4C. The mother, Abby, was a pretty brown-haired woman in her thirties who smiled at Jean and beamed at Madeleine, and stood outside in the hallway chatting while her husband David and five year old son Kevin slunk into their apartment, which looked significantly more roomy than Jean and Madeleine's. 

Abby was a nurse, which was fantastic news for Jean. She looked equally thrilled when she learned that Jean worked from home, and between the two of them they hashed out a rough schedule of babysitting that would have Jean picking Kevin up from Kindergarten on Tuesdays and bringing him home for lunch while Abby worked a late shift and her husband David played baseball. In return, Abby would take Maddie on Wednesday mornings so Jean could do laundry and groceries and any other errand that required his full attention. She would also take Maddie on Monday evenings so Jean could get to the studio. He rented a space in Williamsburg one night a week where he could go and paint. The fumes were bad for Maddie, so he never painted anything major at home. Jean also agreed to mind Kevin any time Abby and David wanted a date night. Kevin and Maddie mostly just stared at each other from behind their parents legs, but Jean had hopes that he’d be a quiet, agreeable child based on his mother’s smile and his father’s silence.

Of Jean and Maddie’s other neighbour, they saw very little. The two of them spent their afternoons drawing and reading and going for walks in the park, while Jeremy presumably spent his sleeping. It was a shame, because Jean had found himself thinking about him on occasion. Madeleine’s painting was done and ready to be delivered, but he didn’t even have Jeremy’s number. He didn’t want to ferry Madeleine back and forth knocking at his apartment door when he might not be there, so for the next week or so a little part of his mind wondered about Jeremy, and when they might see him again.

Their first day with Kevin went quite well. Kevin was indeed a quiet boy, and rather serious. Even though he was a year older than Madeleine she seemed a little concerned for him, and took him under her wing. After they picked him up from Kindergarten they got some hot cocoa, and Madeleine asked Kevin all kinds of interested questions about school. Kevin didn’t seem to have many friends or very much to say, but that didn’t bother Maddie because neither did she. At home, she showed him her books and her toys, and then they sat on the couch in companionable silence eating their PB&J sandwiches and watching the history channel. Jean kept an eye on them from the kitchen in case anything too grisly came on, but otherwise he was able to work in peace.

On Wednesday morning Abby returned the favour, and Jean managed to do a full grocery run and pick up a few painting supplies he’d been meaning to get for ages. Technically he could do these things with Madeleine in tow, but she was always so interested in everything. Jean wasn’t in the business of telling Madeleine to stop asking questions, but it did mean that a half hour job tended to turn into an hour one when she was around. There was also the matter of her legs, which were rather short. All in all, it was easier for Jean to get these grown up chores done while Maddie went and had playtime at Abby’s. At least, that’s how he phrased it for her. Maddie was all for the playdate, but when it actually came to saying goodbye she looked a little unsure.

‘Think of it as a dress rehearsal for Kindergarten,’ Jean told her, as he knelt before her Abby’s doorway. ‘Mrs Winfield is very nice, so make sure you tell her if you need to go to the toilet or if anything is wrong.’

‘Will anything be wrong?’ Maddie asked seriously, holding his hand with both of hers.

Jean smiled, and shook his head. ‘I just meant if Kevin is feeling sick or something,’ he confided in her, quietly. ‘Will you be very good? Ok, give me a kiss.’

They kissed twice, once on each cheek like Jean had kissed his own parents. Abby had promised to call him if anything was wrong, but even so Jean had to resist the temptation to call almost every twenty minutes. He’d rarely left Madeleine with anyone since she’d been born. He’d gotten a sitter on nights where he’d had exhibitions, but she’d been much smaller then. Now she was a little person with moods and habits, and even though she adapted well to change, it usually happened in the reassuring presence of her father. Jean wasn't sure how she'd react without him.

He’d told Abby he’d be back by 1pm, but she’d assured him that there was no rush, so at midday Jean decided there was time to get some laundry done. He wanted to get their stock of bedsheets washed, because Maddie sometimes only pretended she’d gone to the toilet before bed. It wasn’t frequent enough for rubber sheets, but Jean liked to be prepared.

There was a laundry room in the basement of their building. Dodgy as these could be, it was snowing outside and Jean didn’t feel like walking four blocks to the nearest laundromat, so he hauled their respective wash bags down to the basement, the detergent and fabric softener weighing down Maddie’s much smaller bag. He was sitting on one of the benches at the wall doing a little sketching when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

‘Hello,’ said Jean, sitting up a little straighter as Jeremy appeared holding his own wash bag.

Jeremy had a toothy grin for him. ‘Hey!’ he said, tossing the bag on to the folding table. ‘No sidekick today?’

Jean snorted. ‘I’m the sidekick,’ he told him. ‘And no. She hangs out at 4C on Wednesdays while I do boring grown up jobs.’

‘Ah, boring grown up jobs,’ Jeremy said sagely, nodding. ‘I know them well.’

‘Don’t you sleep during the day?’ Jean asked, as Jeremy began sorting his laundry into piles. It seemed to be a lot of black.

‘It’s my day off,’ Jeremy explained. ‘I only got a few hours last night but I’m still kind of wired, so I’m trying to get everything done before I crash properly tomorrow.’

‘Do you always have the same days off?’ Jean asked.

Jeremy nodded, scooping piles of dark clothing into a free machine. ‘Yeah, my boss is good to me,’ he said.

‘You wear a lot of black,’ Jean observed, then winced internally because commenting on someone’s laundry was impolite. He would have told Madeleine off for the same thing.

But Jeremy only grinned at him. ‘Work clothes,’ he explained. ‘Black doesn’t show how many drinks I spill on myself.’

As he leaned over the other washer to put in his colours, Jean had an itch to draw him. This wasn’t unusual; Jean wanted to draw most things that he saw, but Jeremy’s form was particularly inviting. He was about 5’8 or 5’9, and very lean. He would have been skinny but there was something muscular about his shoulders and back, hidden as they were under his fitted sweater. His jaw was sharp and his lips thin, but his eyes were incredibly kind and warm, and he had smile lines around his mouth.

Jean looked down at his sketchpad, which was currently full of doodles of Madeleine, his usual practise subject, as she was constantly changing. Just last night they’d added a new mark to their makeshift wall chart, which was composed of little flags they taped to the wall since they could never mark anything in rented accommodation. The flags were made out of scraps of material glued to blunt toothpicks. Jean measured Maddie against the wall with a tape measure, then inked the results on to the new flag.

‘Oh nice, you draw old school,’ Jeremy remarked. Both of his machines were on now, so he had some time to kill. Jean had expected him to go back upstairs, but he was coming over for a look. Jean gestured for him to sit down if he wanted.

‘I use a tablet for work,’ Jean explained. ‘Paper’s just for practise.’

Jeremy’s eyes were roaming over the paper. ‘Wow,’ he muttered. ‘It’s like she’s real.’

‘She is, you’ve met her.’

Jeremy met Jean’s tentative smile with a grin of his own. ‘Oh he’s funny too,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘Do you draw her a lot?’

Jean nodded. ‘I know her by heart,’ he said. ‘But she changes every day just to keep me on my toes.’

Jeremy gave him a funny look, as though Jean had just said something very interesting.

‘Speaking of Madeleine,’ Jean said, while he had Jeremy’s attention. ‘She is very eager to deliver her first commission. Are you around this afternoon?’

Jeremy looked pleased. ‘Yeah, I am,’ he said. ‘I’m in all day. Call over whenever you want.’

Jean nodded, mentally ticking one more job off his list.

‘So how long have you lived here?’ he asked.

‘About a year and a half,’ Jeremy replied. ‘So are you from Candda, or …?’

Jean shook his head. ‘I was born in Marseille,’ he said. ‘I moved here to live with my uncle after my parents, uh, died.’

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. ‘Wow, how old were you?’

‘Eleven. I just never lost my accent.’

Jeremy frowned a little. ‘That’s so young,’ he murmured. He looked thoughtful. Jean was never keen for more questions about his family, but talking to Jeremy was quite restful.

‘You’re not from New York,’ he guessed. He certainly didn’t sound like it.

Jeremy shook his head good-naturedly. ‘I’m from Atlanta,’ he said. Jean could definitely hear the slight twang now that he was paying attention.

‘I’ve never been,’ he said. ‘Is it nice?’

Jeremy shrugged. ‘Eh,’ he said, tilting his hand and making Jean smile. ‘I mean, it’s fine. It’s not New York, though.’

‘Were you one of those kid with a dream types?’ Jean asked, with a little wave of his hand.

‘Yes I was, actually,’ Jeremy said with dignity, but with a little smile on his face. ‘Kids like us are what make New York so great, haven’t you seen the commercial?’

‘Not sure. Do they run that one on the Disney Channel?’

Their friendly banter was interrupted by Jean’s machine’s beeping.

‘That’s me,’ he said, getting up.

Jeremy tapped away on his phone while Jean sorted his laundry into very big and very small. Just before leaving he confirmed with Jeremy that he’d be in all afternoon. Madeleine would be thrilled.

‘Nice seeing you again,’ Jeremy added, with a smile. He really had a great smile, Jean thought.

‘You too,’ he replied. He turned to go, but Jeremy called him back.

‘Hey, if you’re ever, I dunno, looking for a night out, you could stop by the club where I work. I’ll, uh, buy you a drink.’

Jean turned around with a spark of interest. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That sounds nice, thank you. But I don’t really get out much.’

‘How come?’

Jean thought of how anxious he’d been all day with Madeleine just next door.

‘I don’t like to leave her,’ he admitted, quietly.

Jeremy’s expression softened. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, fair enough. But if you ever change your mind.’

Jean nodded, then bid him farewell.

He collected Madeleine just before 1pm, and the relief when she jumped into his arms full of smiles was like snapping a joint back into place.

‘Did you have fun with Kevin?’ he asked her, after they’d both thanked Abby profusely.

‘Yes,’ said Madeleine, perched in his arms. ‘But I don’t know if he was having fun. He said Mrs Winfield isn’t his real mama.’

Jean frowned at her as he unlocked their front door. ‘Oh, really? Well, there are lots of types of families, remember.’ It was a shame to think that Kevin might be resisting Abby’s warmth and affection, and pining after someone who wasn’t there for him anymore.

‘Hey, I’ve got some news,’ he told Madeleine, as he washed some grapes for her. ‘After you have a snack you can go give Jeremy his painting.’

‘Oh.’

Jean turned around in surprise when this was not met with immediate happiness. Madeleine was sitting at the table and avoiding his gaze.

‘Maddie?’ he asked, calmly. ‘Do you want to give Jeremy his painting?’

‘Uhhhh.’ She was stalling. Jean put the grapes into a little bowl and poured some yoghurt over them. He placed the bowl in front of her and handed her a spoon and then sat down next to her while she ate quietly.

‘Do you want me to go with you?’ he asked, after a few minutes of letting her eat in peace.

Maddie was fidgeting in her seat, rising up on to her knees before slumping back down. ‘What if he doesn’t like it?’ she asked, her voice perfectly neutral like she was asking what if it rains later. 

Jean didn’t answer right away, so she knew he was thinking about it.

‘Well,’ he said slowly. ‘Art is very big, Maddie. Not everyone likes the same thing. The important thing is that you like it. Your opinion is just as important as anyone else’s.’

This was the logical, teaching moment answer. Jean saw that this wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, so he tried a different approach.

‘Not everyone likes Papa’s work,’ he reminded her gently, tapping on her fingers. ‘Lots of people told me no. They said they didn’t want my paintings.’

‘What did you do?’ asked Madeleine, eager for an answer to her problem.

Jean smiled at her. ‘I kept painting,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I changed what they didn’t like, and sometimes I didn’t. You can learn and try different things but you have to paint what’s in here.’ He put his fingers to her heart. ‘Is that ok?’

Maddie nodded, but Jean thought he might have to refresh some of this later. She was too wrapped up in her concerns to notice his own, however, so as they cleared up Jean wondered about making a dash over to Jeremy’s under the pretext of checking their mail. He could slip a note under his door or knock quietly and ask him to make a big fuss.

But as Jean thought about that some more he realised it wouldn’t be necessary. Aside from the fact that Maddie would likely see through a big performance, there was something about Jeremy’s quiet sincerity and easy smile that made Jean think he was going to react in just the right way.

Despite her misgivings, Maddie wanted to do the delivery all by herself. Jean had given her a small piece of canvas to work on, and had mounted the finished product on a neat little board so it looked very professional. He'd also helped her to sign her name very carefully on the back, as she could only fit a small MM on the front. She set off from their front door carrying the painting like an active bomb, even though it was quite dry. Jean left their door ajar and leaned against the wall inside so he could listen.

Jean thought the painting itself was rather special. Maddie had been studying images of galaxies and space very hard, and had come up with a swirling pattern of colour and shapes that had definite form and purpose. As a first effort, it wasn’t bad. She’d also added glitter for the stars and made good use of the yellow ochre to give it some light and mood. Jean was very proud. Despite his earlier confidence in Jeremy, he was still worried about how Madeleine would feel about any kind of unexpected reaction.

Jeremy must have been just passing his door because it opened straight after Madeleine’s firm little knock.

‘Hello Madeleine - oh! Is this for me?’

He sounded genuinely surprised. ‘Oh, wow,’ Jeremy went on, sounding serious. ‘It’s perfect, I love it. And you did this all by yourself? Madeleine, you undercharged me.’

A bloom of warmth was spreading through Jean’s chest as he listened to Madeleine’s tiny voice explaining how she had painted it and what colours she’d used. Jeremy asked a few questions and thanked her again. The sincerity in his tone lifted Jean’s spirits immeasurably, and he could hear a real happiness in Madeleine’s voice.

‘I’m going to hang this on my wall,’ Jeremy was telling her. ‘Can you recommend a good spot? No, no, leave the door wide open, good girl. Ok, so what about there?’

Jean had almost bolted through the door when he heard Madeleine being invited in - a complete knee-jerk reaction - but when he stuck his head out into the hall he saw that the door was indeed wide open, and he could hear the two of them pattering around inside.

‘Not there,’ Madeleine was saying. ‘The curtains are too colourful.’

‘Oh, I see,’ Jeremy said understandingly, as Jean smothered a laugh.

‘What about in your room?’ Madeleine asked.

‘Maybe. I want it to be out here, though, where everyone can see it,’ Jeremy replied.

He was saying all the right things. They eventually chose a spot that suited them both - Jean wasn’t quite sure where - and Jeremy bid Madeleine farewell. Jean ducked back inside the apartment and away from the door so she wouldn’t know he’d been spying.

‘Papa, I’m home,’ Madeleine announced, as though she’d been away for hours. Her eyes were big and wild and she seemed giddy.

‘So?’ Jean asked. ‘What did he say?’

Madeleine eagerly relayed the whole conversation and then gave Jean a full breakdown of what Jeremy’s apartment looked like. By the time she was finished and moving on to what she would like to paint next and asking if could she put some of her art in the gallery where Jean’s paintings were displayed, Jean was thinking that it might be time for a trip to the playground.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. Maddie ran around the playground while Jean tried his best to draw from memory her little face when she’d stormed through the door off the back of her first successful sale. She had looked like a fiercely contained little storm, with lightning wrapping around the clouds like a net. Maddie returned to him 45 minutes later red-cheeked and ready for a hug, which Jean happily provided. He told her some relevant words in French on the walk home - canvass, art gallery, exhibition - because this was a game that Maddie loved to play. He’d raised her through English because he’d been worried about confusing her, but was slowly in the process of feeding her the French language whenever he could.

The next day brought more excitement for Madeleine. Jeremy had left her a thank you card in their mailbox, addressed to her personally with their full address. She held the envelope for ten minutes before Jean asked her if she was going to open it. Madeleine had never gotten any mail before, and couldn’t figure who it might be from. She knew nothing of stamps and how mail worked, and Jean didn’t feel the need to explain that right now.

The card had a bunch of flowers on the front and said _Thank You!_ in pink glittery writing. Jean added another mental checkmark to Jeremy’s name. He read out the letter to an awestruck Madeleine:

 

_Dear Madeleine,_

 

_Thank you so much for my wonderful painting. It is my first piece of art and I will treasure it always. I can’t wait to see what else you come up with!_

 

_Yours sincerely,_

_Jeremy Knox_

 

He’d added his number at the end. Jean didn’t read that part out.

Madeleine was over the moon with this praise, and Jean had to admit he was a little bit taken by it himself. He kept glancing over at the wall in the direction of Jeremy’s apartment. He wanted to thank him, but had no suitable thank you cards to hand. He thought about sketching something quickly but that felt like too much. Eventually he settled on folding a nice coloured piece of card in two and writing a little message inside:

 

_You’ve made her whole week. That was really special._

_Thank you._

_Jean_

 

He included his number at the end, largely because it would have seemed strange not to reciprocate, but also a little because he wanted to.

Jean slipped the note under Jeremy’s door that evening and legged it back down the hall before he could notice and open his door to investigate.

He and Maddie dithered around the apartment for the evening and got nothing productive done. Madeleine had the card on display on her bedside locker, and Jean caught her reading it again at bedtime, tracing the letters with her finger and silently mouthing the sounds she remembered (Jean had read it to her at least five times, at her request).

Just before Jean himself was about to turn in, his phone buzzed with a text, which was unusual because he had about twenty contacts and none of them were people he texted casually. He glanced at the screen and felt his heart give a little kick.

 

 **Jeremy:** Glad to hear she liked the card :) best dollar I’ve ever spent

 

Jean fumbled the phone in his haste to reply.

 

 **Jean:** She’s sleeping with it under her pillow. You’ll never get rid of her now!

 

 **Jeremy:** Always happy to be a patron of the arts. Thanks for your note btw. I’m off Wednesdays and Thursdays. If you feel like hanging out, give me a call :)

 

Jean had to admit he liked the sound of that, even if he hadn’t “hung out” with anyone in - well, years. Certainly not in the way he was assuming Jeremy meant it. It was always a little different when your main topic of conversation was your four year old.

But for once Jean didn’t let himself get sidetracked by all the reasons why not. Jeremy already knew he had a daughter, and he was a fan.

Jean texted back saying that sounded good, and then put his phone away before he could do any damage. It was an odd feeling, going to bed with someone other than his daughter rolling around in his head. Jean thought he might like it.

 

***

 

Jeremy was intrigued by Jean and Madeleine’s schedule. He kept bumping into them in the hallway or outside the building, and they always looked like they were off to do something interesting or just coming back from an activity. Jean wasn’t the most talkative guy, but Madeleine was always full of information.

‘We were at the movies,’ she told Jeremy, as they climbed the stairs together one evening. Jeremy had been on his way to work early but realised he’d forgotten his phone. Now Jean was leading the way up the stairs, with Madeleine behind him turning around to talk to Jeremy every other step. ‘We saw _Winnie the Pooh_ and then we saw the _Piglet_ movie.’

‘Yes we did,’ added Jean, throwing a dry look over his shoulder at Jeremy, who stifled a laugh.

‘Who’s your favourite character in Winnie the Pooh?’ Jeremy asked her.

‘Pooh because he’s in charge,’ said Madeleine confidently. Jean made a baffled gesture with his hands, which Madeleine didn't notice and Jeremy found hilarious. ‘Papa and me are like Kanga and Roo.’

‘Really?’ asked Jean. ‘Because earlier you said I was like Rabbit.’

Jeremy burst out laughing and Madeleine joined in, even if she didn't get why. Her laugh was a gleeful chortle; it made Jean laugh too.

One evening, Jeremy met them when he was coming home from work at 8am. Usually he made it home by 5, having graduated from having to do clean up at the end of the night, but he’d gotten wrapped up in talking to a beautiful girl with a nose ring and he’d gone back to her apartment for drinks. The excitement had faded earlier than usual this time; they’d been making out on her bed when Jeremy had abruptly felt very not into it. It had nothing to do with her - she had her hands down his pants and was doing everything right - but all he knew was that suddenly he definitely didn’t want to have sex with her. It was like a switch had flipped in Jeremy’s brain.

He’d kissed her and made his excuses. She said she was tired anyway and wasn’t offended and it all worked out fine, but as Jeremy slunk out of her house and joined the masses of New Yorkers on their way to work he couldn’t help feeling a little cold and strange on the inside.

Jeremy was initially very embarrassed to be meeting Jean and Madeleine after essentially doing the walk of shame, and he hesitated at the stoop when they appeared at the door, wondering if he should duck back and let them pass by without having to talk to him. Jean might be tactful enough to just nod and smile at this significant hour of the morning but Madeleine wouldn’t understand.

But he wasn’t quick enough. Madeleine had spotted him while Jean’s back was turned. He was zipping up her coat and she was waving at him, and Jeremy yearned suddenly to join their little family outing.

Jeremy waved back at her and drew Jean’s attention. His hair was ruffled from the wind, and he was wearing his now-familiar navy coat. Seeing no other option apart from hanging out at the bottom of the stoop like a kid busted coming home from a party, Jeremy hopped up the steps to them.

‘Hello,’ Jean said, with his usual flicker of a smile.

‘We’re getting pancakes!’ Madeleine cheered. This was very exuberant for her - clearly pancakes were a big deal.

‘Wow, pancakes,’ enthused Jeremy. ‘Is it a special occasion?’

‘Pay day,’ said Jean with a smirk. ‘This is how we celebrate the end of every month.’

A little family tradition. They were putting their hats and gloves on and Jeremy was charmed.

‘Were you at work all night?’ Madeleine asked, wiggling her fingers to get her gloves on properly. She was very interested in the concept of Jeremy working at night; after an interrogation in the hallway one evening, Jean had explained quietly that she was very interested in other people’s jobs, probably because Jean worked from home. Jeremy got the impression that Jean was quite anxious about what kind of an impression this made on her.

‘Uh, yeah,’ Jeremy replied, feeling a little awkward in front of Jean. ‘Busy night,’ he added, for his sake.

If Jean suspected anything, he didn’t show it. He just wore his usual mild expression and held out his hand for Madeleine. Jeremy, feeling slightly disappointed for no good reason, prepared to step aside for them.

But Madeleine wasn’t done. ‘Do you have breakfast or dinner?’ she asked, looking up at him.

‘Well, I usually go to sleep,’ Jeremy explained. ‘Then I have breakfast when I wake up.’

Madeleine wasn’t impressed by this. ‘Papa, can he come to our breakfast?’ she asked Jean, as though Jeremy was a friend from school.

Jeremy honestly expected Jean to hesitate or tell her that Jeremy was surely very tired. But he just looked at Jeremy and asked, ‘Would you like to?’

Jeremy’s first instinct was to say yes, and happily. But as he looked at the two of them his heart started to sink. Jeremy was in last night’s clothes and smelled like cigarettes and the sex he’d almost had. Definitely not the kind of influence Jean wanted around his daughter.

‘Oh, I’d love to,’ he said, not having to fake sounding regretful. ‘But honestly, I really just need to shower and sleep. It’s a really nice offer, though. I mean, I would. Honestly.’

Jeremy could normally articulate himself very well, and this was distressingly close to word vomit. Madeleine hadn’t noticed but Jean looked at him with a glimmer of interest.

‘That’s ok,’he said. ‘We were going to ask you over for dinner, actually. I mean, I can’t cook, but Madeleine makes very good spaghetti. What do you think?’

It was such a relaxed yet sincere request that Jeremy felt instantly calmed.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Definitely. I’d love to.’

Some minor babbling again, but Jeremy’s smiled so enthusiastically that Jean smiled back.

‘Alright,’ he said softly. ‘We’ll set something up.’

Maddie wasn’t a tug on your hand type of kid but she was definitely starting to fidget.

‘You’d better feed that child before she starves,’ Jeremy remarked, to break pop the little bubble between them.

‘She’d feast on my corpse long before that happened,’ Jean murmured to Jeremy as he passed him, a little aside that made Jeremy glow with their shared confidence.

As he climbed into bed Jeremy had shaken off that weird, cold feeling from earlier. So what, he hadn’t been in the mood for sex. He’d had a long night and a few drinks. Maybe he just hadn’t been as into her as he’d thought. No big deal.

And now he had dinner at the Moreau’s to look forward to. Jeremy had been delighted by Madeleine’s neat little signature on the back of his painting, and the throaty little way she’d pronounced her surname when he’d asked her to. He wondered what they were having for breakfast, and what their day was going to be like. Maybe he’d wake up and see them later. He could bake something and bring it to dinner, he thought sleepily. It would be nice to contribute something, since they were hosting. He supposed he could bring a bottle of wine, but he didn’t want to be presumptuous.

Jeremy’s brain tried to chase itself around with these thoughts but he kept coming back to Jean’s little smile and how settled Jeremy had felt in his presence. It was that which eventually lulled him to sleep.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> through no fault of my own, this is entirely a Jean chapter

Jean had to check himself quite hard when he realised he’d invited abare acquaintance over to his home like it was nothing. He couldn’t even tell himself it was for Madeleine’s benefit; even though she was pleased, Jean had done it because he was lonely and wanted an adult to hang out with. But he couldn’t actually ask for that himself; Jean had stopped being able to do that about four years ago, when he’d asked for the world and actually received it.

Today was Friday, and Jeremy’s next day off was Wednesday. He’d said before that he tried to catch up on sleep and chores on Wednesday, but Jean literally didn’t think he could survive until Thursday. The anxiety would kill him. Madeleine, being a strange, easygoing child, was very excited about the dinner and didn’t feel worried at all about their space being invaded for basically the first time ever. But then, she still went to the bathroom with the door open no matter how many times Jean reminded her to close it, so maybe privacy hadn’t yet become a priority for her.

The only surefire way Jean knew for dealing with his anxiety that didn’t involve actually solving the problem or cuddling Madeleine - which she wasn’t always willing to suffer - was painting. It rained all weekend and Madeleine had rediscovered her love of Winnie the Pooh, so while she gorged herself on all the episodes Jean downloaded for her on to his Kindle, and poured over the illustrations in the old copy of the book Jean had found for her in a secondhand bookstore, Jean was able to get all of his storyboarding art done for the next _Silly Lily_ book and send the drafts to the editor.

It always amazed him how little contact he was required to have with his author, Amy Redding. She liked his work and he liked her stories, so they usually just emailed back and forth on the storyboarding process, with Jean sometimes suggesting scenes that would look good, or Amy describing something she’d like to see. But then she'd generally just let Jean draw whatever felt right. Lily was as much his creation as Amy’s. And the _Lily_ books had a steady following, so as long as Amy kept churning them out then Jean had a steady source of income. It wasn't glamorous, but neither was cleaning up his child's vomit when she'd snuck five cookies before bed and didn't make it to the bathroom. It was parenting. 

Art as stress relief worked a little too well, and by the time Monday rolled around Jean was desperate to get to the studio. Doing a lot of drawing for work but no painting felt a bit like driving in second gear all weekend. The familiar shapes and lines of Lily and her exploits were comforting and repetitive to Jean, but now he just wanted to bask in the silence of the studio and throw paint at a canvass until everything inside him clicked back into alignment.

Eager as he was to paint and get a little time to himself, it was always difficult to leave Madeleine. By now she was very comfortable with Abbey and Kevin and their home, but Jean always had a tendril of worry in the back of his mind; it was there in place of Madeleine whenever she was not in his direct line of sight.

He headed out to Williamsburg on Monday night after dinner, with Madeleine safely deposited on Abbey’s couch. Maddie had informed Jean that she was going to teach Kevin about space tonight. There was definitely an element of “whether he likes it or not” to that statement. Serious child that he was, Jean thought Kevin might enjoy the lesson.

It was very cold outside, and Jean knew the studio would be even more so. He was permitted to store the bulk of his painting supplies at the studio in a locker, which was good because at this point he owned about 500 paintbrushes and many of them bore bite marks from Maddie’s teething days.

The studio was quiet tonight, with just the gallery manager out front and one other artist rattling around in the warehouse-like space in the back. Jean had a room booked from 7-9; it was rarely enough time, but any later and they’d be entering sleepover territory, and even thought Madeleine would probably have been fine with it, Jean wasn’t ready to ask that of either Abbey or himself.

Once he’d gotten his canvas and supplies set up, Jean let the smell of acrylics and possibility wash over him. He never knew what he was going to create; each brush stroke was pure discovery.

Tonight felt particularly exploratory. Jean felt like something was on the tip of his tongue, but it wasn’t making sense on the canvas. After a while he cleared it and started again, using a darker palette this time. He used reds, ochre, purple. Then lots of brown tones. The yellow lightened it wonderfully, and Jean lost himself in creating something new.

He always set phone alarms to tell him when his time was up, because if left unattended Jean knew there was a chance he’d return to his college days and paint for 24 hours straight until he fainted. The studio would forget about him and lock him in and then he’d be fucked. In any case, his alarm went off two hours later and Jean stepped back to take it in.

On the canvas before him was a field at dusk, the smoke of a fire in the background. In the foreground was a figure with his back turned. Jean had added him almost without thinking; just a few lines of light as suggestion. The rest of the painting was strange to him, but it also felt like the start of something. It was different, but Jean knew there was much more to it.

Feeling strangely hopeful, Jean stored his canvas where it would be left alone to dry, and thought he might like to do that one again. He snapped a quick photo of it before he left, and spent the train home looking at it and seeing the parts he’d change, develop, and maybe grow into something else.

Abbey invited him in for a hot drink when he arrived for Madeleine, and Jean was so hyped up after painting that he said yes. This was also the woman who was providing him with free babysitting services, so if she wanted to fuss over him then he was more than willing to let her.

‘Come on, they’re not finished their colouring yet,’ she said, beckoning him in. Abbey’s husband was sitting at the kitchen table between Madeleine and Kevin and supervising what looked like competitive colouring. Maddie didn’t even notice him come in. Jean crouched down at her elbow to see what she was doing.

‘Hi Papa,’ she said, distracted. Definitely no separation anxieties, thought Jean, amused.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked, after a quick hello to David, who Jean suspected either didn’t like him or didn’t like anyone.

‘I’m drawing my favourite things,’ Maddie told him. ‘That’s what you say is best to draw.’ There was a note of pointedness to this statement, and she looked up at Kevin when she said it, as if to add "See?"

‘That’s true,’ nodded Jean with interest. He scanned her page. Most of it wasn’t clear, but he definitely recognised himself, a unicorn, a box shape that might be the Dream House, and two other people-shaped items.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, pointing at one of them.

‘Winnie the Pooh,’ Madeleine explained. ‘He’s not yellow yet.’

‘And this one?’

Maddie quickly scribbled some more over the face part. ‘That’s Jeremy,’ she said. ‘I forgot his hair.’

Jean started a little. ‘Jeremy?’ he questioned. Maddie just nodded and kept working, casting furtive looks at Kevin every now and then, to see how he was doing. Clearly Jean was distracting her.

‘Here you go,’ Abbey said, handing Jean what turned out to be a Bailey’s coffee.

‘I always get too much of it around the holidays,’ Abbey explained, as they sipped in the kitchen. ‘David hates it so I end up just giving it away.’

‘Thank you,’ Jean murmured, enjoying it very much. ‘How was she this evening?’

Abbey gave her usual report of what Maddie had eaten and drank and said and done, and Jean thanked her profusely.

‘It’s no trouble at all, she’s a very good child,’ Abbey said kindly. ‘Did you get much work done?’

Jean nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. I know it doesn’t exactly pay the bills but …’

Abbey shook her head. ‘There’s more than one kind of bill to be paid when you’re a parent,’ she said wisely. ‘You need time that’s just yours.’

‘What do you do?’ Jean asked curiously.

‘I go to book club,’ Abbey told him. ‘Twice a month. David calls them Tequila Thursdays.’ She grinned at him. ‘But I go for walks by myself too. Gives me time to think.’

Jean supposed it was different when you had a partner. You weren’t leaving your child alone or with a babysitter, so he supposed it was easier to not worry about them constantly.

Maddie was sleepy when Jean brought her home so he got to cuddle her as he got her ready for bed. She was an affectionate child, but only became snuggly when tired. Jean held her on his lap and got her into her pyjamas, and then he tucked her under the covers and read stories until she fell asleep. It was always tempting to lie down with her; her sleepy scent and deep breathing were intensely comforting to Jean. They reminded him of the days when she was still an infant, and they would fall asleep together on Jean’s bed, exhausted. All the parenting books had told him to let Maddie cry herself out in order to help her to self soothe, but sometimes her distressed wails had been too much for Jean's heart. He’d tuck her into the bed beside him and go to sleep, and that worried part of his mind would fall silent for a few hours - though he did jerk awake occasionally, afraid he’d roll on top of her.

He tried to watch television after Maddie was asleep but ended up making lists on his phone. Jean had a lot of lists; bills to pay, things they needed, things Maddie mentioned liking that could be potential Christmas or birthday gifts, cute things Maddie said, and just general stuff he needed to remember. Right now he was trying to figure out what the fuck he could cook for Jeremy that would be both acceptable to Madeleine’s limited palette and deemed adult enough that Jeremy would be impressed. Maddie would also doubtless want to help prepare the meal so Jean would have to factor that in too. He had been tempted to ask Abbey for suggestions but that would probably lead to “is this a date” questions, which was ridiculous given that Maddie would be there. But the question would be raised nonetheless, and Jean wasn’t sure that he could reply with a straight face.

On Wednesday, after he’d safely deposited Madeleine with Abbey once more, Jean went to the grocery store. He’d decided on pork chops in mushroom sauce with sweet potato fries and salad, but now he was suddenly worried about presentation so he was also buying napkins and a table cloth. Even Maddie looked bemused at that addition.

‘What is this?’ she asked when Jean had smoothed the pale green check fabric over the table to check the size.

Jean explained that it’s what you put on your table when you’re having a guest for dinner and want things to look nice. Madeleine seemed to take this to heart, and helped Jean to clean the whole apartment thoroughly while Jean got dinner started. Jeremy had already insisted on bringing dessert so he didn’t have that to worry about, which meant he could focus on worrying about literally everything else.

Madeleine took it all in her stride as usual, and Jean tried to absorb some of that calming energy. He helped her choose what to wear and she in turn sat on his bed and told him which of his shirts she hated the least. 

The handy thing about your dinner guest living just down the hall was that Jean was able to time dinner to perfection, so by the time Jeremy was knocking on the door the pork chops only needed another ten minutes or so.

‘I wanna answer it!’ Maddie said, running across the living room. She had finally decided on proper clothes instead of her unicorn princess outfit with only minimal encouragement from Jean, and was now looking very pretty in this years Christmas outfit which consisted of a  little blue velvet dress and cream tights. She was still wearing her pink unicorn slippers, but Jean knew how to pick his battles. 

‘Can you reach?’ Jean asked, following her to the door. The answer was no, but Jean didn’t mind giving her a boost so she could flip the lock.

Jeremy had arrived with a covered tray and a big smile, and Maddie inhaled the scent of baking so deeply that the only opening line she could manage was ‘What is THAT?’

‘Madeleine,’ Jean scolded her. ‘Say hello.’

‘Hello,’ said Madeleine, still distracted and rising up on her tiptoes trying to get a better look.

‘I’m sorry, hello,’ Jean said, smiling at Jeremy to cover his daughter’s bad manners. ‘I did raise her better than this.’

'Oh no, please,’ Jeremy said, as he stepped inside. ‘I never get welcomes like this. Hello, everyone.’

He handed the tray off to Jean, who was also tempted to peek at the source of that wonderful smell but was warned sternly by Jeremy not to.

'It just needs a little warming and fixing up before we can eat it,’ he said, following Jean into the kitchen. ‘So you’ll have to cede control to me at that point.’

‘Sounds fair,’ agreed Jean with a smile. ‘So how are you?’

Jeremy smile already felt familiar in their little kitchen. ‘I’m good,’ he said, leaning against the counter. ‘Same old.’ Then he perked up. ‘That’s a nice tablecloth.’

’Thank you,’ said Jean gratefully. Madeleine stuck her tongue out at him from behind Jeremy’s back, and Jean couldn’t help returning the gesture. Jeremy laughed, turning between the two of them.

‘It’ll just get dirty,’ she complained, pointing at the offending cloth. Madeleine was very fastidious; Jean knew if there was a spill or splash during dinner she’d be doing a full outfit change.

‘That’s why we do laundry,’ Jean said, feeling defensive of his decorative choices.

‘I’m not a tablecloth person either,’ Jeremy confided in Madeleine. ‘But I do appreciate the effort. It’s like going to a fancy restaurant.’

‘I’ve never been to one of those,’ Madeleine said, who was apparently determined to fight Jean on this.

‘And you never will, if you don’t behave,’ Jean warned her. Jeremy might think it was cute but Jean knew when her attitude was showing. ‘Go set the table, sweetheart.’

Defying this request would have embarrassed her so she took the cutlery and napkins mulishly and stomped over to the table. She could barely reach, and Jeremy watched her with amusement for a minute while Jean gave the sweet potatoes a last turn.

He shooed Jeremy to the table as he served everything up and instructed him to pour the wine. Jean had had a bottle of red sitting on the radiator since 4pm and was now gasping for a glass to calm his nerves. This wasn’t his usual behaviour - art was his crutch and his vice, not alcohol - but the situation definitely called for one rather than the other.

Maddie took the bowl of salad from him and carefully carried it over to the table, and Jean followed her in with the plates. He left Jeremy and Madeleine discussing the food - Maddie was claiming credit for most of it - and went back to get his own. Once in the kitchen he paused, listening to them talk. It wasn’t a babble of voices, but it felt … homey. Comfortable. The right kind of mood. Jeremy was admiring their height chart on the wall; Jean poked his head out and saw that he was leaning across the table listening to Madeleine explain their system. Jean’s hands twitched to draw the pair of them.

He rejoined the table with his own plate, and they had a very pleasant meal in which Jeremy told them stories from work - heavily edited, Jean suspected - and a few amusing anecdotes from his childhood. The Moreau’s returned the favour and shared stories of their own. Maddie had them both laughing with tales of Kevin-from-4C, which Jean felt mildly guilty laughing about but had to admit that even at four years old Maddie was rather humorous.

‘God, where did you get her from,’ marvelled Jeremy, when Madeleine had scampered off to the bathroom. His plate had been scraped clean, and he was sitting back looking very full and satisfied. It was a good look on him.

Jean shrugged. He was also feeling very peaceful. ‘Mars,’ he suggested, listening to Maddie chatter to herself in the bathroom. He was quite proud that she’d shut the door without prompting this time.

He glanced over at Jeremy and blinked when he saw him smiling fondly in the direction of the bathroom. Maddie had a habit of talking to herself when she was alone.

‘Does she have an imaginary friend?’ Jeremy asked.

Jean shook his head. ‘No,’ he responded. The talking was cute, but it concerned him sometimes. ‘She started doing it about a year ago. I think it’s because she doesn’t have anyone else to talk to.’

Jeremy must have detected the bum note in Jean’s voice, because his gaze switched to him and a little frown creased his brow.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘She has you.’

Jean lifted one shoulder in a little shrug. ‘She needs other children,’ he said. ‘Kindergarten will be good for her.’

‘When does she start?’

‘Fall.’

‘She’ll thrive.’

Jean smiled a little. ‘Yeah, she will. I’ll probably wither and die without her but at least she’ll be on the road to friends and self-sustainability.’

Jeremy looked like he was going to reply, but Maddie distracted him by skipping back from the bathroom.

‘Madeleine I like your slippers,’ he said as she clambered back up on her chair.

‘Papa got them for me,’ Madeleine told him, swinging her legs.

‘Madeleine,’ Jean reminded her.

’Thank you,’ Maddie added. Jean wasn’t really annoyed; it was very nice to see Madeleine so giddy and entertained by another person. She seemed to like Kevin and Abbey fine, but was evidently smitten with Jeremy. She hung on his every word. Jeremy, for his part, was endlessly patient with her, and spoke to her calmly and with his full attention, like a grown up. 

Unfortunately, the more Madeleine’s liking to Jeremy became apparent, the less sure Jean felt about getting close to him. He’d seen enough of Jeremy in his work clothes to figure he probably wasn’t straight, but relationships were the opposite of Jean’s area of expertise. Flings and sexual encounters had been spontaneous events in his pre-parenthood life, and now that he was a father they just didn’t happen at all. He had no time to give to anyone that he wasn’t already giving to Madeleine, and frankly he didn’t want to. Not while she was so young and vulnerable. She didn’t need Jean neglecting her because he was mooning over some guy, or feeling heartsick because things had gone wrong. Jean tried very hard to keep his own emotions buried, but he knew his heart was in there somewhere.

Madeleine came first, always. As Jean watched her lean towards Jeremy to ask him if he watched any cartoons and which was his favourite, he saw that Jeremy could only ever be a friend. A good friend, hopefully, but nothing more. It would be for the best.

Jeremy insisted on helping to clear up, going so far as to take plates out of Jean’s hands and usher him back to the table. Madeleine was keen to help so Jeremy enlisted her in the clearing up of crumbs from the table, something that Jean had been trying to get her to do ever since she could walk. Jean could hear Jeremy opening the oven and telling Madeleine not to look, so he assumed the baked secret was being heated up for consumption. Jean topped up their wine and twiddled his thumbs until Madeleine came running back to him.

‘Does he need any help?’ Jean asked.

‘He says he has the same oven as us,’ Maddie explained. ‘But he said I couldn’t look while he finished it.’

‘How mysterious,’ Jean said to Maddie with a wink. She giggled back at him, covering her mouth with her hands. She was clearly having the time of her life, and Jean was considering making this a monthly thing if she wanted.

When Jeremy finally reappeared he had a plate in his hands and a nervous smile on his face.

‘So, this might give us all diabetes,’ he warned Jean, setting it before Madeleine’s golf ball-sized eyes. ‘Supervised portions are advised. But I couldn’t help myself.’

The cake - if you could call it that - was in the shape of a donut. Jean suspected it was some kind of Swiss roll, and he was right. It was made of chocolate, with the top half covered in buttercream icing and multicoloured sprinkles. But when they cut into it they found that the layers were also multicoloured - pink, yellow, blue, and purple sponge, with cream.

‘Oh my god,’ said Jean.

‘I got a little carried away,’ Jeremy admitted.

‘This is the best cake ever,’ whispered Madeleine.

They all had a slice. Jean cut Madeleine’s deliberately small so he could say yes to her inevitable request for seconds. She definitely hadn’t gotten her sweet tooth from Jean, but even he could admit that it was very tasty.

‘So, you like to bake,’ he said, appreciatively.

Jeremy grinned. He’d chosen the seat beside Jean on his return to the table with the cake, instead of opposite him where he’d eaten dinner. ‘I do,’ he admitted. ‘It’s the one thing I’m good at. That and math.’

Jean didn’t believe for a second that Jeremy had only two talents, but this was definitely a significant one.

‘Papa can’t make cakes,’ Madeleine said. Her plate was already empty and she was eyeing up the cake again. ‘He burns them.’

‘You are crucifying me today, Maddie,’ Jean said with a little sigh.

‘What’s that mean?’

‘Nothing,’ Jean assured her.

‘Maybe he can’t bake,’ Jeremy said to her quietly. ‘But I can’t paint, or even draw worth anything. I also can’t drive, or cook sweet potatoes fries. I burn them.’

Maddie looked at Jean suspiciously, like he’d put Jeremy up to this. Jean was a little taken aback by Jeremy’s defence of him, and just returned her stare.

‘So your dad is good at lots of things,’ Jeremy continued. ‘You’re very lucky, Maddie. All my dad was good at was - ‘ he hesitated, biting off the end of his sentence in a way that Maddie didn’t notice but Jean did. ‘Farming,’ he finished.

Maddie was looking at Jean in a new light, but Jean was looking at Jeremy, who was taking a drink of wine in an attempt to avoid looking at either of them.

‘Ok,’ Maddie said, sounding more agreeable now. ‘Papa can I have some more now please?’

‘Just a small slice,’ Jean murmured, leaning forward to cut it for her. ‘You’re taking some of this back with you, by the way,’ he added to Jeremy with a small smile. ‘You deserve to keep some of your hard work.’

Maybe he’d been using his dad voice, because Jeremy just smiled and nodded in quiet agreement.

‘We can give some to Kevin, too,’ Jean added to Maddie. ‘To say thank you for minding you so often.’

‘We mind Kevin too,’ Maddie reminded him, making both Jean and Jeremy smile and share a look.

‘Yes, but it’s nice to be nice, isn’t it?’ Jean said gently.

‘Sure is,’ Jeremy agreed, turning that little smile on Jean.

In the end they both had seconds, and then Jean made them tea. Maddie had a few sips of Jean’s, and then very politely asked for her own cup. Jean, bemused, made her a small tea in the cup he usually reserved for measuring rice. He let her add milk and a smidge of sugar until she was satisfied. As she sat back in her seat, teacup in her hands, there was something about her posture that was so like her mother that Jean could only stare at her. He supposed he’d be seeing it more often as she got older, but it was still something of a shock.

‘Is this new?’ Jeremy asked him quietly. He was leaning in to him; Jean caught the scent of him before he could help himself. It was a mix of good cologne and something else - jasmine, Jean thought. Odd for a man, but it suited Jeremy.

‘Yep,’ Jean replied, folding his arms and leaning back slightly. ‘Every day with her is something new, though.'

‘She keeps you on your toes,’ Jeremy remarked. His eyes were so warm and brown, Jean thought, trying and failing to avoid getting caught in them.

‘She does,’ he agreed.

‘I really admire you,’ Jeremy admitted. ‘Doing all this by yourself. It’s impressive.’

Jean had heard similar sentiments. What people didn’t want to hear in response was that he’d literally had no choice. One look at Madeleine and his soul had been tethered to hers for good.

So he just shrugged. ‘She’s alright,’ he said lightly, making Jeremy snort and Maddie look up expectantly, sensing that they were talking about her.

‘Yeah, we’re talking about you,’ Jean told her, with a quick grin. He was in a remarkably good mood. He had his daughter on one side and Jeremy sitting real close on the other, and it felt nice.

‘Do you want another drink?’ he asked Jeremy quietly, turning back to him. Jeremy was already leaning in close, and he inclined his head towards him in response.

‘Yeah, if you’re having one,’ he said, fixing him with those warm eyes. Then he blinked, and reached for his pocket. Jean could hear his phone vibrating.

‘Sorry,’ Jeremy murmured, darting quick look at Jean and the Maddie as he pushed back from the table. ‘Just a sec.’

He stepped away from them to take the call, and Jean took the opportunity to watch him. He stood with his back to them, phone raised to his ear, his other arm wrapped around his slim waist. There was hardly anything to him, Jean thought. He wanted to draw the point of his elbow and the round of his shoulders, and found himself tracing them with his eyes.

‘Papa,’ Maddie said.

‘Hmm? What?’ Jean said quickly, looking at her. ‘What is it?’

Maddie didn’t answer, and only looked at him with absolutely no expression on her face. It was one of her more maddening habits.

’Nothing,’ she said, looking back down at her plate in case there were crumbs she’d missed.

‘Are we ignoring you?’ he asked her with a smile.

Maddie shrugged, not looking too bothered. Her eyes flickered away. ‘Are you gonna stay?’

She was asking Jeremy, who had just hung up the phone with a guilty expression.

‘Oh, I’d love to Madeleine,’ he said regretfully. His gaze switched to Jean. ‘That was work,’ he said, quietly. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go in.’

Jean’s heart dropped. ‘Right now?’

Jeremy nodded, slipping his phone into his back pocket. ‘Yeah. The club hosts these early events on Wednesdays; fundraisers, galas, sweet sixteenths, that kind of thing. But two of our bartenders are sick tonight, so I have to go in.’

Jean raised his eyebrows. ‘Both of them are sick on the same night?’

Jeremy gave him a dark look. ‘I know.’ He sighed again. ‘This was lovely. I really had fun.’ He smiled at Madeleine brightly, then turned it on Jean as it dimmed into something more sincere. ‘Really,’ he added, softly.

Jean nodded, standing up. ‘Well, we loved having you,’ he said. ‘Didn’t we, Madeleine?’

Maddie, who ordinarily did not pout, was definitely pouting.

‘You didn’t see my room,’ she told him quietly.

Jean would have scolded her for this but he was too surprised by the genuine regret in her voice.

‘Oh, sweetie,’ Jeremy said, sounding just as regretful. ‘Well, can I come back another time?’

Maddie thought about it. ‘Ok,’ she decided. ‘But this time _I_ get to cook,’ she added, throwing this in Jean’s direction.

‘Did you really not like the pork chops this time?’ Jean asked, baffled. She’d been giving him dissatisfied looks all through dinner. Maddie was shaking her head, with that same little expression on her face.

‘Yes, you can come back any time,’ Jean added to Jeremy, turning back to him. ‘We loved having you. Now, you’re taking some of this with you.’

He cut up half the remainder of the cake and put it in tupperware, and pushed it into Jeremy’s hands.

‘So now we have to see you again,’ he said lightly. ‘I want this back.’

Jeremy smiled, taking it from him. He always showed his teeth when he smiled, like he couldn’t help smiling so big each time. ‘Fair enough,’ he agreed. ‘But I feel like you’ll have to bribe me with a drink if you want this fine tub back. Where did you even get one so sturdy?’

‘They only give them to you when you have a kid,’ Jean said confidentially. ‘That’s when you really need the good stuff.’

They were smiling at each other right up until Jeremy was standing in the hallway. Maddie had briefly hugged Jeremy’s leg and then scampered away before he could react.

‘She’s not really a hugger,’ Jean told Jeremy. It wasn’t true - Maddie requested hugs from Jean quite frequently - but it was easier than explaining Madeleine’s very specific criteria for a proper full armed hug.

‘Sounds like you have a busy night ahead of you,’ Jean said. He was standing in the doorway, as neither of them had said goodbye yet.

Jeremy made a resigned face. The hallway was surprisingly warm, but Jeremy had his shoulders hunched like he was cold. ‘Hopefully I’ll get out before midnight. That’s an early night for me,’ he joked.

‘I’m probably gonna be up late too,’ Jean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought about it. ‘I hardly got any work done today.’

Jeremy looked amused. ‘Were you so busy preparing for my visit? My standards aren’t _that_ high, Jean.’

He had such a nice way of pronouncing his name, Jean thought. He said it like he thought it was interesting.

‘Well, Madeleine changed her outfit about five times and made me critique each one,’ Jean pointed out. ‘And then she flat out criticised everything _I_ chose for myself. I guess you’re kind of a big deal here, Jeremy.’

Jeremy’s big brown eyes were fixed on Jean, a sweet, thoughtful smile on his face. ‘I can think of worse things to be,’ he said quietly, still smiling. After a moment of silence in which Jean tried to memorise all the colours of Jeremy’s eyes, Jeremy said, ‘One of them is late, though. So I’d better go.’

‘Right,’ Jean said, still staring. ‘Well, have a good night.’

‘You too,’ Jeremy said. Jean wanted to chase that smile, draw it a thousand times until he could trace it in his sleep. It was captivating, and deserved to be art.

Once Jeremy had gone, Jean tried to corral Madeleine and get her to help him clean up. But Jeremy hadn’t been lying about the sugar; Madeleine had a hectic look in her eyes and opted instead to sprint around their tiny apartment pretending to be Tigger.

‘Tiggers can’t clean!’ she protested, bouncing on the couch.

‘Tiggers don’t _sweep_!’ she told him, crawling around on the kitchen floor in all the crumbs and almost getting stepped on.

‘Tiggers don’t go to bed at a reasonable hour!’ she parroted loudly, hiding behind her Dream House when Jean held out her pyjamas.

‘Tiggers aren’t supposed to have so much sugar before bed,’ Jean replied firmly. ‘Does this Tigger want to have more cake tomorrow?’

Madeleine took a big breath, then nodded.

‘Will this Tigger listen to her father and get ready for bed?’

Madeleine nodded again, pink-cheeked, and then sprinted past Jean to the bathroom.

‘Are you ok?’ Jean asked, concerned that she might be throwing up. He was 90% sure she’d snuck more cake while he’d been saying goodbye to Jeremy.

‘Teef!’ Maddie called back, voice muffled by her toothbrush.

Bedtime became incredibly protracted. Jean read Madeleine three separate stories, and she insisted that he do voices for all of them. After the lights went out she called for a drink of water twice, then had to use the bathroom as a result. She also came into the kitchen three times because she “heard something”.

‘It was me, Madeleine,’ Jean said, getting annoyed now. ‘Sweetheart, it’s very late. You have to try to go to sleep.’

‘Tiggers _don’t_ ,’ Madeleine complained, rubbing her eyes. Her little cheeks were pink and her hair was messy. Jean suspected she’d actually been asleep, but had woken up when he’d clattered his tablet off the fruit bowl on the table and then cursed at himself.

He picked her up and carried her around the living room for a while, rubbing her back. He’d spent the first year of her life doing exactly this, and it was still comforting to both of them. When her breathing became deep and even again, Jean deposited her gently in her bed.

By half past midnight, Jean was still finishing up some new illustrations for _Silly Lily_. Her latest exploits involved going to her grandma’s farm, and Jean was struggling to create animal faces that he didn’t personally want to punch. They all kept turning out like Tigger, so eventually he wiped the screen and pulled his sketch pad towards him. He had a hundred identical ones wedged with drawings and wrapped in elastic bands that were a pain to store but he kept anyways. Jean flipped to a new page and pulled out a worn pencil, and let his hand create the lines and shapes they’d been aching to draw all evening.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will have 100% more Jeremy POV!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a slightly shorter Jeremy chapter because this week is railroading me lmao

Wednesdays were Jeremy’s day off for a reason. He didn’t like working the events, because they were always full of very rude people who didn’t tip. He’d sworn off them as soon as he was allowed to choose his own weekends. Dan looked apologetic for about five seconds when he showed up, before flatly telling him to get to work.

Tonight’s event was a fundraiser for some rich people cause that everyone cared deeply and passionately about for two nights of the year. They paid well, and Jeremy didn’t blame Dan for hosting the bi-annual event because it paid for their Christmas party, but he missed the club music.

‘Laila _and_ Alvarez off sick, huh?’ he said to Neil over the noise.

Neil just shrugged, which was more of a response than Jeremy had expected. He was an odd sort, pretty unfriendly for a bartender, but Dan and Matt were very fond of him. He also had a pair of blue eyes that could skewer a customer at twenty paces and talk them into spending far more than they’d intended to. Neil didn’t appear to have any scruples about this. His sort-of boyfriend, Andrew, was one of their most intimidating bouncers, though he seemed to save his angriest glares for Neil.

Jeremy spared a moment to text Laila a quick, “ _Really??”,_ and then applied a little eyeliner, and some glitter to his cheeks, because if he had to work tonight then he was going to look pretty doing it.

Jeremy didn’t always wear makeup. Some nights called for it and some didn’t, just like how sometimes he let his stubble grow out and other nights he shaved it. It all depended on his mood. And contrary to Alvarez’s occasional mean remarks when she was in a bitchy mood, it had nothing to do with whether he was looking for a man or a woman.

‘Wednesdays,’ Neil grumbled, kicking an empty bottle of soda out of his way. Upstairs had three bars, but theirs was the main one. Jeremy was soaked up to his elbows in alcohol already.

‘Is Andrew working tonight?’ Jeremy asked, because Neil had approximately two topics of conversation on which he would talk, and Jeremy knew nothing about football.

‘No,’ Neil grumbled, which explained many things.

‘You on until closing?’

‘Yes.’

‘Were you supposed to be off tonight?’

‘ _Yes._ ’

Jeremy was now entirely clear on the situation, and decided it would be wise to shut up about it.

He smiled at the customers and batted his eyelids at those who gave him looks of interest. Jeremy had cracked his phone screen last week, so all flirtation proceeds were going straight into that fund. It never bothered him to get paid for his personality; if he could make someone smile and feel good about themselves for a little while, then that worked too. It was a poor substitute for what he really wanted to do, but it did pay better.

There was more time than usual to think while he worked. The guests were numerous but significantly less rowdy than a regular night. Most were sipping, rather than chugging. Instead of dwelling on the night that could have been, Jeremy thought about the lovely evening he’d already had.

Madeleine was simply a delight. She was a thoughtful child, asking quietly sweet questions that revealed her intelligence and her innocence. She always looked at him intently when he gave her an answer, those little grey eyes so startling and serious. Jeremy couldn’t help wondering, not for the first time, who her mother was. He enjoyed contrasting Jean and Madeleine; he was pale, where she was olive-skinned, and where her hair was fully black, Jean’s was a brown not quite as dark as Jeremy’s. Jean’s nose had probably once been straight but was slightly crooked now, from what looked like a bad break. It didn’t match Madeleine’s little button nose.

But it was their similarities that delighted Jeremy. During the short time he'd observed them together, they'd frowned and smiled and pursed their lips all in the same way. And the same pair of grey eyes had a habit of staring thoughtfully at Jeremy while he got tongue-tied. Madeleine’s gaze was very perceptive coming from a four year old, andconvinced him not to baby-talk at her, as was his first instinct. Jean’s eyes were just very distracting.

As the fundraiser crowd filtered out, the rest of the club staff started to arrive, and Dan started counting out their tips. Jeremy danced around impatiently, not sure what exactly he thought he was leaving so excitedly for.

‘Got a date?’ Dan asked, giving him a disgruntled look.

Jeremy should have said, ‘No,’ but he said ‘Not quite’. Dan raised her head, scenting blood in the water.

‘Explain?’

‘No,’ Jeremy said primly. Then he had an idea. ‘What will you let me have that’s top shelf for like twenty dollars?’

Jeremy was exceptionally good at bargaining, and Dan was too busy to argue with him, and so twenty minutes later he swanned out of The Basilica with a bottle of Redbreast wrapped in a sweater and tucked into his bag. It was at least three quarters full - a steal. Jeremy rode the train home with mounting impatience, but when it came time to climb the stairs to his floor he found himself feeling nervous.

He couldn’t knock, he realised now. Maddie would be asleep. Jean might even be asleep. it was 12:40, much later than he’d said he’d be up. But sending him a late night text like “U up?” was worse than a booty call; Jeremy felt sleazy for even considering it.

He’d crept up to Jean’s front door and was kind of just hovering there awkwardly, like he was expecting Jean to open it. His phone was in his hand - he hadn’t even gone into his apartment - and the whiskey was weighing down his bag. He was holding his breath. Then Jeremy heard the scrape of a chair, then the tell tale rattle of glass jars that suggested a refrigerator door was being opened. Jeremy scampered back to his own apartment as quickly as he could and then sent Jean a picture of the whiskey in his hand with the caption _“You still up?”_

It still wasn’t the classiest message he’d ever sent. He stared at his phone for three full minutes before he got a reply.

 

 **Jean:** Yes! but I can’t leave M

 **Jeremy:** I can come over?

 

Jean disappeared for a few more minutes while Jeremy leaned his head against the wall. His apartment was cold from being empty all day, and he didn’t want to be there.

 

 **Jean:** Wear a coat

 

Jeremy wasn’t sure what that meant, but he hurriedly put his coat back on and grabbed the whiskey.

Jean was waiting for him in the hall, the door to his apartment ajar. He was holding two cushions and two glasses, and wearing a slightly chagrined expression.

‘This is your fault,’ he said, before Jeremy could ask. His voice was low. ’She’s only been down properly for an hour.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘Oops.’ He took the offered cushion and sat against the opposite wall. The hallway was narrow, and they stretched out their legs side by side. Jeremy poured two small measures into the glasses - he’d been too excited to even think of something so civilised, but of course Jean had it covered - and they chinked the glasses in the quiet hallway.

‘Perks of the job?’ Jean asked, taking an appreciative sip. Jeremy’s eyes darted to where Jean’s tongue had briefly wet his lip, chasing the taste.

‘Sold for a measly twenty,’ Jeremy told him. ‘I told her to take the rest out of Laila’s next tips. She’s the reason I had to work.’

‘You drive a hard bargain,’ Jean said. ‘Did you share the cake?’

‘Well, I was going to. But everyone was being kind of annoying, so I decided to keep it all for myself. ’

Jean laughed, and it was a lovely thing. The humour darted across his face and faded as quickly as it had come, but it made Jeremy’s heart skip a little.

‘I’m sorry we have to sit out here,’ Jean added. ‘She was really over-excited tonight. I blame A.A. Milne and her annoying toys. Maddie thinks she’s Tigger, with extra bouncing.’

‘I guess that makes you Christopher Robin.’

Jean gave him a flat look. ‘Don’t start her on that,’ he said.

They laughed a little and drank some more. The hallway wasn’t really that cold, but little drafts occasionally blew across their legs, so the whiskey’s warming effect was an added bonus.

‘I used to do this when she was a baby,’ Jean murmured, inclining his head towards the gap in the door and pausing to listen for a moment. ‘We had an even tinier apartment then, and the only real time I could get any work done was at night. If I dropped a pencil, she’d wake. So I’d sit out in the hall with a baby monitor.’ He glanced at Jeremy with a little smile. ‘I didn’t have such good whiskey or good company, though.’

Jeremy flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

They talked a little bit about their days. Jean was interested to hear about the events the club held, so reluctant though Jeremy was to talk about work, he duly told him about a few different ones.

‘Your manager sounds like a patron of the arts,’ Jean commented. ‘Not unlike yourself.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘Yeah, she likes to help. Half the staff are friends of hers who were down on their luck. She kind of takes them all under her wing.’

‘Does that include the two that didn’t show up tonight?’

Jeremy snorted. ‘No, they were my friends first. We went to school together.’

Jean nodded. ‘And you all ended up working in the same club,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘What did you study? Math?’

Jeremy hesitated. ‘Physics,’ he said. ‘At NYU. What about you?’

‘Painting, at Pratt.’

Jeremy was impressed. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘You’re the real deal.’

Jean rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, this is very glamorous,’ he said, gesturing to their current situation. ‘A single parent drinking in the hallway of my terrible apartment building.’

‘Well, at least you’re not drinking alone,’ Jeremy joked, nudging him with his leg. ‘That’d be sad. And anyways, this is what artists are meant to be like, aren’t they? Who ever painted masterpieces in a penthouse?’

Jean gave him a look. ’Most of them do, nowadays,’ he said, sardonically. Then he shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t hold it against them. Their success means art is being appreciated. Van Gogh should have been rolling in money.’

‘What artists do you like?’ Jeremy asked. He probably wouldn’t know any that Jean cared to name, but he was intrigued by the tendril of passion in his voice.

‘Oh, so many,’ Jean said. ‘I take Maddie to galleries all the time, but I'm sure she'll start to complain soon. I love Monet, and Sisley, and Degas, and Pissarro. I’ve never seen any of them in the wild, but I’ve seen some of Erin Hanson’s works in San Diego. I went there with some classmates during my thesis year.’

‘Cool.’ Jeremy had hardly been anywhere. ‘Most of my school work was all classroom based. No physics galleries,’ he joked. ’Though we did go to museums a lot.’

Jean shifted his legs slightly. ‘How come you didn’t take it further?’ he asked.

Jeremy had been trying to figure that out himself for a few years, and he still didn’t have an answer that he liked saying aloud.

‘Uh, I just … I dunno, I had some money issues. My mom left, and then my dad had to go into hospice. We had to pay for it - my sisters and I.’ He glanced down at his drink. ‘Actually, he’s still there, and we’re still paying for it.’

Jean looked at him in silence for a moment. ‘That’s a shame,’ he said. He sounded like he meant it, too. ‘Is he sick?’

Jeremy lifted one shoulder in a shrug. ‘He spent most of his life drinking. It didn’t suit him.’

Jean glanced at the whiskey between them. ‘You don’t have a problem with alcohol.’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘No, I’m more like my mother,’ he said, smiling a little in fond remembrance. ‘She was so dependable. She never let us down.’ The smile faded. ‘Except then she left, and we all floundered.’

Jeremy drifted into silence. After a moment, Jean nudged him with his leg.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,’ he said quietly.

Jeremy shrugged. ‘It’s fine,’ he said, smiling at him as best he could.‘It just sucks to think about it, so I don’t.

Jean watched him for a few moments, as though he was worried Jeremy was about to have a breakdown. Jeremy internally cursed himself for lowering the mood.

‘Parents shouldn’t be a burden,’ Jean said, after a few moments. ‘I hope I never am.’

Jeremy, in an attempt to lighten the mood, said, ‘Well, you _did_ make pork chops tonight. She looked pretty burdened by those.’

Jean snorted, and Jeremy’s heart instantly lifted. ‘She loved them last month!’ he protested. ‘Maybe it was the pepper sauce…’

‘Are your meals dictated entirely by Madeleine?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Not always,’ Jean said reasonably. ‘She doesn’t have the most sophisticated pallet, but we generally compromise. Or I make two dinners.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘Sounds fair.’ Then he paused. ‘Can I ask where her mother is? You don’t have to tell me, but …’

Jean’s eyes flickered to him. ‘Oh, it’s not sad,’ he said. ‘She was going to give her up for adoption, but I took her instead. That’s all it was.’

Jeremy had a feeling it was a lot more than that. Jean looked fairly unbothered by the question, so Jeremy went on. ‘Were you together?’

’Oh, no,’ Jean said, with a little smile. ‘Serena and I were friends. She let me paint her, and I let her bring me to med school balls because she didn’t have anyone else. She was stressed and thought I’d be fun, and I thought experimenting with women would make me more interesting. We were both wrong.’

Jeremy had a million questions, all of them too personal to possibly ask Jean. ‘So … where is she now? Does she know you have Madeleine?’

Jean nodded. ‘She knows. I told her. She had med school to go to. She’s in Seattle now. She used to call, now she just emails. She feels guilty, I think. She asks for photos sometimes. Then she goes quiet for a while. It’s fine, though. Madeleine hasn’t asked yet, not really. I’ll show her everything when she’s ready. I’m sure they’ll have a relationship of sorts, one day.’

This was an incredibly mature response, considering how protective and devoted Jean was. Jeremy didn’t know where he found the strength to allow someone into his daughter’s life who’d already abandoned her once.

‘How do you feel about that, though?’ he asked, helplessly curious despite knowing that this was bordering on rude. ‘I mean, she’s not really her daughter.’

‘Isn’t she?’ Jean asked. His voice was mild. ‘In another life, or even in another few years, Serena might have been ready to keep her.’

‘Were you any more ready than she was?’

Jean looked at him with an odd expression. Jeremy was afraid he’d be annoyed, but it was more like curiosity. ‘Serena’s a good person,’ he said softly. ‘She didn’t make the decision lightly. If anything, I was the one that rushed into things. She made a smart, informed decision.’ He hesitated, and left that thought sounding unfinished. ‘I have no doubt that she would be a positive influence for Madeleine,’ he went on, more confidently. ‘She’ll love her. She doesn’t contact met for months, and then begs for photographs. It’s like she’s afraid of falling in love with her too soon.’ Jean shrugged, with a little smile. ‘But who could help that?’

Jeremy had to agree. He was surprised by the vehemence of his own feelings on the subject of Madeleine. 

‘She is wonderful,’ he echoed, almost to himself.

Jean tilted his head and smiled at him. ‘She is,’ he agreed. His smile was only ever a small twitch of his lips, but it always seemed much bigger when it reached his eyes.

‘Will you tell me something?’ Jean asked, after a few minutes of drinking and contemplative silence.

Jeremy figured he owed him quite a something, after he’d asked so many personal questions, so he agreed. He thought it would be something in the same vein.

But instead, after a brief hesitation, Jean surprised him. ‘Would you like to come to dinner on a - well, a more regular basis?’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry if this sounds strange. We barely know each other. But Madeleine has really latched on to you - she thinks you’re brilliant.’

‘Well, kids are smart,’ Jeremy said, shrugging. Jean flashed a grin at him, and Jeremy’s heart leapt.

‘I just think it might be good for her,’ Jean said. ‘She doesn’t have any friends. Just Kevin, and I don’t think he’s much fun for her. I know adults can’t really be her friends, but you’re someone to talk to who isn’t her dad.’

Jeremy had heard the concern in Jean’s voice before when he’d talked about her not having anyone to talk to. Now he could hear it again.

‘She’s four,’ he said gently. ‘She doesn’t need a whole possé of best friends.’

But Jean had clearly made up his mind on this subject. ‘She needs more than me,’ he said firmly. ‘And she enjoys your company. So, the offer’s there. If you want it.’

He finished a little awkwardly, and looked down at his glass again, which was now empty. Jeremy wondered if the alcohol had loosened his tongue more than he’d anticipated. He was now tilting his head towards the gap in the door again to listen for Maddie, possibly as an excuse not to look at Jeremy.

‘Look, if you feel uncomfortable or don’t want to, it’s fine - ’ he began, a little hastily, but Jeremy cut him off.

‘It’s not that,’ he said. He shrugged as Jean looked at him. ‘I just - I mean, are you sure you want someone like me around her all the time?’

Jean seemed genuinely confused by this remark. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, brow furrowing.

Jeremy didn’t want to spell it out. ‘You know,’ he said, dully. ‘Someone with my kind of lifestyle.’

Jean’s frown deepened. ‘Look, I know you might not be around forever,’ he said. ‘I’m not asking you to babysit, either. You don’t have to teach her life lessons. Just - ’He sighed, looking frustrated. ‘I just want her to have a friend,’ he finished quietly.

Jeremy felt something sharp in his chest. Jean’s eyes were downcast.

Jeremy wasn’t sure if Jean had understood him when he’d said that Jean might not want someone like Jeremy around his impressionable young child. But if he didn’t automatically think that Jeremy was a bad influence, then Jeremy didn’t feel like enlightening him. He leaned forward and took Jean’s glass and the bottle, refilling the glass before handing it back to Jean, who was watching him quietly.

‘Only if I get to cook at least once,’ Jeremy said, raising his own glass to Jean.

Jean blinked, and then a slow smile spread across his face like none Jeremy had seen before. It was like the sun coming up; he felt its warmth.

‘I think that’d be fair,’ Jean said. His voice was deep, and soft. ‘She’ll like that.’

‘Well, she’s not the only one.’ Jeremy found that he was pleased beyond all expectation. He’d been expecting Jean to dislike his affection for Madeleine, but here he was inviting him into their home and encouraging it. Jeremy wondered, as he smiled back at Jean, if there was any possibility that Jean was doing this for himself, too. It was pure conjecture, brought on by the fact that Jean had more or less confirmed he was actually gay - a wild thought Jeremy had once had in a moment of vulnerable wistfulness - but thoughts like that were the hardest to shake.

They said goodnight after a few more drinks, during which time they’d moved on to lighter topics. They’d discussed Jean’s painting and Jeremy’s baking, which might have sounded like fruitless, trivial conversation, but it flowed easily between them and rarely required actual thought. Jean had a pleasant, thoughtful way of speaking that Jeremy found incredibly engaging. He couldn’t say for certain why Jean was so keen to keep the discussion going too, but he thought maybe Jean might be a little bit lonely too.

They’d made good headway on the whiskey - ‘More than I intended to,’ Jean confessed - and they both had things to do the next day. Jeremy didn’t mention that he could sleep in and do whatever he wanted, since Madeleine would likely be waking Jean up at the crack of dawn. Kids were early risers, weren’t they?

‘She is,’ Jean confirmed when Jeremy asked. They were standing up and stretching out their limbs. ‘But sometimes I can convince her to hop into bed with me and sleep for a little while longer.’

This image was so sweet and domestic that Jeremy could only smile stupidly at him for a moment. Then he became aware that Jean was holding out his hand to take the cushion that Jeremy had been in the process of offering him.

’Sorry,’ Jeremy said quickly, snapping out of it and relinquishing the cushion. ‘Thanks. Those were a good idea.’

‘I’ve been known to have one of those occasionally,’ Jean said with a wry smile. ‘Be sure to tell my daughter.’

He tossed the cushions back into the apartment and then took the glasses. Jeremy had been a little anxious about how they might say goodbye, purely because Jean made him self-conscious like no one else seemed to, but Jean had it under control.

‘This was very enjoyable,’ he said, with that earnest expression he wore sometimes. ‘I’m glad you suggested it. Honestly, I haven’t hung out with a - a friend, in a long time.’

‘We should do it again,’ Jeremy said, excited at the thought. ‘I had fun too.’

Jean nodded. ‘Sounds good.’ That flicker of a smile again. ‘Well, I’ll see you later then.’

Jeremy took his cue and headed back down the hall to his own apartment.

‘Jeremy.’

He turned so fast he almost dropped the bottle.

Jean was still standing there, looking down at the glasses in his hands. He seemed almost bashful.

‘Thank you,’ he said, quietly. He paused for a moment, then added, ‘I’d forgotten what it was like to just … be with someone.’

His choice of words sent sparks tripping down Jeremy’s spine, and he didn’t quite know what to say in response.

‘Any time,’ he said, trying to make something so casual sound as sincere as he felt. ‘Any time at all, Jean.’

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold, another Jean chapter

As February moved into March and the mornings began to grow brighter, so too did Jean’s social life. As well as being frequently invited into Abby and David’s home for afternoon tea or a nightcap, Jean had starting talking to a couple of parents at Kevin’s kindergarten while he and Maddie waited to collect him. One woman in particular was a first time parent too, and when she heard that Maddie was due to start in September she was full of helpful advice and encouragement. Allison’s daughter Rose was friendly with Kevin and she had admired Maddie’s sparkly pink shoes. At Allison’s suggestion, they had all gone for after-school snacks on two occasions now.

Jean found it an incredible relief to talk to another single parent. Allison was in almost the exact same boat as him, except she had a very good job at Chase bank and seemed to have her life together in almost every aspect.

‘Except for my fucking asshole ex-husband,’ she mouthed at Jean, lest the children should overhear. But the three of them were engrossed in playing with the yoyo’s that Kevin and Rose had mysteriously brought home from Kindergarten - Madeleine’s eyes were wide as saucers at the idea that kindergarten might supply toys you could keep - and were ignoring the grown up conversation.

‘Does Rose ever see him?’ Jean asked. They were leaning towards each other over coffees in Allison and Rose’s favourite spot; Madeleine had been delighted to find out that the two of them played the same coffeeshop game that she and Jean did.

‘Nuh uh,’ Allison said, shaking her head significantly. ‘And she won’t be either, not until he’s clean and sober.’ She paused for a moment. ‘And what about …’ She pointed subtly to Madeleine, a questioning look on her face.

Jean appreciated the tact. Lowering his voice, he told her how he and Serena had just been friends, and how she’d never wanted a baby. ‘I just took her home,’ Jean said, with a shrug. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing, and I didn’t sleep for more than two consecutive hours for about a year, but I just couldn't go home without her.’

Allison nodded. ‘I hear that,’ she said, glancing over at Rose. Her resemblance to her daughter was similar to Jean’s with Madeleine; Rose had warm brown skin and dark hair, in contrast with Allison’s pale and blonde. She had her mother’s smile, though, and her attitude.

Explaining to Allison the circumstances of Madeleine’s birth felt different from when he’d told Jeremy. With Allison, it was like comparing war wounds. But while she was interesting and friendly, she was flat out not interested in him. She sounded like a woman who’d sworn off men forever, and after hearing her stories about her ex-husband Seth, Jean had to say he agreed with her. He also caught her eyeing up a curvy woman at the next table, which might also have explained a few things that were none of his business.

What he’d shared with Jeremy had felt infinitely more personal. Jeremy had wanted to know for himself, and not because he had a similar situation. He’d wanted to get to know Jean and Madeleine. Jean wished he could have been even more open with him at the time.

But if he wanted another shot at that, he had plenty of opportunities coming up. Jeremy had responded with gusto to Jean’s request to hang out more with Maddie. He’d come for dinner again the following Wednesday, and Madeleine had given him an extensive tour of their home while Jean had made “her” famous spaghetti and meatballs. This had been well received, and he and Jeremy had actually managed to finish a bottle of wine afterwards while Madeleine sat on Jean’s lap and pretended she wasn’t tired.

Jeremy also joined them for a Sunday lunch and gallery excursion. Jean had a feeling this wouldn’t be happening every Sunday, as Jeremy was peaky and tired, but he responded to Madeleine’s every query and comment with enthusiasm and as much energy as he could muster. Jean propped him up with coffees and distracted Madeleine as often as he could to give him a break, but Jeremy did seem genuinely interested in the paintings they saw, and he loved their trip to feed the ducks afterwards.

Despite all of this extra time together, Jeremy was still insistent on their little hallway evenings. They were meeting up at Jean’s front door twice a week now - every Thursday and then whichever other day that Jeremy was working the day shift at Hennessy’s. That one was always a treat, because it usually changed every week. They’d mutually decided to save the rest of the whiskey for a special occasion, and moved on to less exciting but arguably tastier beverages.

‘You have to be putting something in this,’ Jeremy said one evening, breathing deep the chocolately smell coming from his mug.

‘Marshmallows,’ Jean informed him with a smirk.

‘Yes, and what else?’ demanded Jeremy. ‘Fairy dust?’

Jean laughed quietly. ‘I’ll never tell,’ he said, taking a sip of his own.

Jeremy was all bundled up in a thick sweater and a woolly hat. He had his legs tucked up and was sitting directly opposite Jean, who had found himself looking forward to these evenings like he looked forward to painting on Mondays or reading Madeleine her bedtime story. Being in Jeremy’s presence was exciting and soothing all at once, especially when he was giving him his full attention, like he was now.

Despite having told himself sternly that Jeremy was just a friend, Jean couldn’t help wondering repeatedly if Jeremy liked men. He should have asked already. There were plenty of ways he could do it; asking whether someone had a girlfriend _or_ a boyfriend was almost standard practise these days. But Jean just didn’t think he could pull it off without his face giving something away.

Jeremy was telling a story about his two closest friends, Laila and Alvarez. Jean wasn’t sure if that was her surname or not. They seemed to be quite the characters, although he was more interested in their college days, of which Jeremy was reluctant to talk about.

‘So, yeah. I definitely think they’re sleeping together,’ Jeremy said with confidence. ‘I just wish they’d tell me so I could bake them a cake and bless their union.’

Jean snorted. Baked goods seemed to be Jeremy’s answer to everything.

‘So, how’s Madeleine?’ Jeremy asked. ‘Any news?’

Jean momentarily stalled in gathering his thoughts because Jeremy was licking at the edge of his mug where a bit of marshmallow had melted and gotten stuck. He looked so cute in his woollens, all curled up and enjoying a hot beverage.

Once he’d recovered himself, Jean remembered that he did in fact have news.

‘Well,’ he began slowly. ‘One of our new friends from Kevin’s school is starting ballet classes. Her mother was taking her to a little production in the park last Tuesday that the older students were putting on, so we tagged along.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘I thought Madeleine’s eyes would fall out of her head. I mean, they looked great, with all their tutus and makeup and long legs. It wasn’t hard to be impressed. But it’s been all Madeleine has been able to talk about ever since.’

Jeremy was smiling warmly as he listened. ‘Do you think you’re gonna start her in classes in the fall?’ he asked.

Jean shifted his weight around. The cushion was comfortable, but his ass did tend to go to sleep after a while out here.

‘I’ve actually already done it,’ he said, a little sheepishly. ‘I called the teacher this week. She said that usually the class is intended for children who have already started school, but it was up to me if I thought she was ready for it. So I’m going to send her along to a class next week and just … see what she thinks.’

Jeremy looked delighted. ‘She’ll be thrilled,’ he said, looking fairly thrilled himself. ‘Is she excited?’

Jean shook his head. ‘Haven’t told her yet,’ he said. This term doesn’t start until next Thursday. The baby class is 12 weeks long. I don’t think either of us could cope with a full week of _waiting_ for ballet class.’

‘Madeleine the ballerina,’ mused Jeremy. ‘It suits her. People will write poetry about her. And I bet she’ll be tall. Is her mother tall?’

Jean smiled. ‘She is,’ he said. ‘It was always quite something to stand beside her; she’s at least six foot.’

Jeremy was looking at him with no small amount of interest. ‘She must be beautiful,’ he said. ‘I mean, if Madeleine is anything to go by.’

Serena _was_ beautiful, there was no doubting that. ‘She is,’ he said. ‘She’s half Mexican. Had all this long, dark hair when I knew her.’ He paused, thinking about it. ‘Maybe I should tell Madeleine her mother is tall. She was a little concerned about how tall the girls in the park were. And she’ll surely be smaller than all the other children …’ He trailed off, starting to worry a bit. They’d had to have an emergency measuring session the evening after seeing the ballerinas, in which Jean had been forced to make up a centimetre just to reassure her that things were going according to her plan.

But Jeremy was shaking her head. ‘That won’t bother her,’ he said, with that quiet confidence. ‘She’ll have no problems.’

Something about Jeremy’s tone loosened something inside Jean. He hadn’t said anything particularly insightful, but it brought to mind some of Jean’s other considerations. For on thing, ballet would get Madeleine out of the house and mixing with children her own age - or close to her own age, at least. And it would be good practise for kindergarten - listening to a teacher and following the rules. And aside from all of this, ballet might be her calling. Jean was suddenly fast-forwarding to sitting in the front row at the Lincoln Centre as his daughter’s performance reduced critics to tears.

‘Yeah,’ he said, letting his eyes refocus on Jeremy again. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘What’s the teacher like?’

‘Well, we just spoke on the phone,’ Jean said, remembering Renée Walker’s calm, friendly voice. ‘But she seemed nice. I guess we’ll find out on Thursday.'

The next week was a busy one. Jean’s schedule was filling up fast; he wanted to keep hanging out with Alison and Rose, as much for Madeleine's sake as for his own. Then there was Jeremy, and Jean’s own work, and all the other things he had to do to keep their little family moving and on the go. Maddie had an accident on Saturday night and was a little upset about it, so Jean was up half the night trying to soothe her. Then she had a nightmare on Sunday night, and Jean was so groggy when she woke him that he automatically changed her pyjamas and almost had the bed stripped before he realised it wasn’t wet.

And now there was ballet to think of. On Monday Jean speed-shopped at the grocery store so he could go and buy all the gear she would need. He had been considering holding off until he knew that she was definitely into ballet, but he couldn’t send her to the class as the odd one out in both age _and_ clothes. Luckily the store was having a sale, but Jean would happily have eaten nothing but cereal for the next week to pay for them.

Madeleine hit the roof when Jean finally made the reveal on Tuesday night. They’d had a busy day with Kevin and the Reynolds; to Jean’s delight, Rose had been talking a lot about starting ballet this week, and Madeleine had been hanging on her every word.

Jean called her in from the living room to the kitchen where he nervously had her new ballet clothes folded in a little bag. ‘What?’ she asked curiously, rising up on her tip toes as she immediately spotted the bag. ‘What’s that?’

Jean pushed the bag towards her and told her to open it. Madeleine didn’t understand at first what she was seeing, but then she found the slippers. After ten minutes of high-pitched little shrieks and running around the room she dissolved into exhausted tears, climbing on to Jean’s lap and burying her head in his shoulder.

‘Are you excited?’ he asked, over the howling.

‘ _Y-yes,’_ Madeleine sobbed, clutching his sweater.

‘Are these happy tears?’

‘ _YES_.’

Eventually Jean had to put her to bed early, the ballet slippers sitting beside her fuzzy unicorn slippers, and the rest of the ensemble - leotard, tights, soft chiffon skirt, little black cardigan - hanging on her wardrobe door. Jean couldn’t help sending a photo to Jeremy of her little worn-out face drifting off to sleep while gazing down at her new slippers.

 

 **Jean:** Told her about ballet

 

Jeremy took about five seconds to reply.

 

 **Jeremy:** OMG. She looks exhausted! Were there tears of joy?

 

 **Jean:** You mean you didn’t hear her from your apartment??

 

Jeremy sent back some laughing emojis and a love heart. Then he added:

 

 **Jeremy:** Bring her over after her class, I can’t wait to hear her report.

 

 **Jean:** Will do

 

Jean had been wondering if Jeremy had simply been taking an interest in Madeleine out of the goodness of his heart, but he genuinely seemed to enjoy her company. Jean had seen him idly stroking her hair and smiling at her when she said something unintentionally sweet, and if his interest in what she said was fake then he was fooling both Madeleine and Jean. Despite his good nature and charisma, Jeremy struck Jean as quite a lonely person. He mentioned his friends quite a bit but seemed almost relieved whenever Jean asked him to accompany them somewhere. Maybe he was just imagining things, but as a lonely person himself Jean thought he recognised some similarities.

Another man might have taken advantage of this. Jeremy didn’t leave for work until after ten most nights, and could easily have watched Madeleine while Jean got some extra studio time in. He probably would have said yes, too, and Jean thought he trusted him as much as he did Abby now, even though Jeremy had far less experience with children (that Jean knew of). But he hadn’t befriended Jeremy to get a cheap babysitter; he didn’t want spending time with Madeleine to become a chore for either of them.

Maddie couldn’t sleep on Wednesday night. Jean eventually took her into his bed and had to use his stern voice to get her to stop wriggling. He could feel her eyes on him but was determined to ignore her, and eventually she drifted off from sheer nervous exhaustion. She still woke up far too early in the morning, so Jean took her out for a walk in the park. She sang and skipped and talked about ballet the whole way, and when they got home she napped on the couch until lunchtime. Jean had a hushed conference call in the kitchen with Amy and their editor Shane Smith about some final edits ahead of the release of the new book ( _Silly Lily: Sheep, Goats, and Crazy Cows!)_ and then did some work. He woke Madeleine up in time for lunch.

Jean made her go to the toilet twice before they left, just in case. Maddie was quiet on the way to the class, which was held in a school hall in Sunnyside, but Jean wasn’t concerned about this. She had a lot to think about.

Parents were not allowed to stay and watch the class, as it distracted the children. The teacher, who introduced herself to every new child and parent as Renée, ( _not_ Ms Walker), told them they could wait in the reception area if they didn’t want to go too far. Jean had spent all morning trying to calm Madeleine down, but now she was walking confidently away from him with hardly a backwards glance, and Jean was at a bit of a loss.

‘Jean.’ He turned his head to see Allison and a few other parents standing at the school doors. ‘We’re gonna go get coffee. You want to come?’

On another occasion, Jean might have said yes, but a thousand things rushed through his mind and made him hesitate. The people with Allison all looked liked seasoned parents; what if getting back ten minutes early was not a priority for them? Worse, what if Jean lost track of time with them and wasn’t there when the doors opened? He had been hoping to peek in the window towards the end to get a look at her.

‘Uh,’ he said. ‘No, thanks. I’m good.’

Allison, in typical Allison fashion, just shrugged and waved him goodbye. Jean milled around in the entrance for a few minutes, then felt his phone vibrate.

 

 **Jeremy:** How’s the next Misty Copeland?

 

Jean wasn’t sure who that was, but assumed she was a ballerina.

 

 **Jean:** Not sure, parents banned from the hall. I’ve got my ear pressed to the door.

 

 **Jeremy:** Maybe you should be learning the moves too so you can help her practise.

 

Jean grinned at the idea.

 

 **Jean:** No, the parent doesn’t help her practise. He simply gets her to and from class and pays for everything. Practise is the friend’s job

 

 **Jeremy:** That sounded very well thought out. I guess I’ll get my tutu?

 

 **Jean:** They’re having a sale at the school supply store. I’m sure they have something in your size.

 

 **Jeremy:** I have yet to graduate to adult size clothes so this is likely.

 

 **Jean:** Madeleine has some sweaters that she grew out of last year, if you’re interested.

 

 **Jeremy:** Actually could I borrow one of yours? I need a new comforter.

 

Jean didn’t immediately realise what he meant, and entertained a brief thought that Jeremy might find him comforting.

 

 **Jean:** Ha. I’m not that big.

 

 **Jeremy:** You have shoulders for days. Aren’t artists supposed to be scrawny and starving?

 

 **Jean:** Everything I eat goes straight to my shoulders. It’s a curse

 

 **Jeremy:** I wouldn’t say that ;)

 

Jean was very glad there was no one around to see him make faces at his phone and bite down on a silly smile. 

As it turned out, Jean hardly felt the hour pass. Jeremy must have been very bored to be kind-of flirting back and forth with him on his day off, but Jean wasn’t there to judge. It was a lot like their evenings in the hallway, but for some reason it was easier to say certain things to Jeremy when he didn’t have to watch him react.

In fact, Jean was so distracted that he didn’t notice the other parents returning.

‘Did you stay here the whole time?’ Allison peered over his shoulder critically.

‘Yes,’ Jean said, defensively, putting his phone away quickly.

He was afraid Allison would tease him, but she only smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I get it,’ she said. ‘You’re allowed this one freak out. But come for coffee with us next time, ok?’

Jean hesitated, then nodded. ‘Sure.’

A few of the parents were clustering at the door. Jean and Allison joined them in peeking down the hallway into the gym where the group of fifteen or so tiny girls and boys were pattering around. Jean could hardly spot Madeleine, because they all looked the same at a distance, but when they were ushered into a line by their slim, elegant teacher, he spotted her by merit of being the shortest in the room.

Jean wasn’t sure how much ballet they’d actually been doing, but once Renée released them Madeleine came skipping out with pink cheeks and bright eyes like she’d just performed for thousands. She capered around like a little goat as Jean tried to coax her into putting on her coat and exchanging her slippers for winter boots, and it was Renée this and Renée that all the way home. It was an excessive amount of talking by anyone’s standards, let alone Madeleine’s. She chirped like a bird until they reached their floor, where she stopped abruptly.

‘Papa,’ she whispered. ‘Is Jeremy there?’

So in hushed voices they negotiated away the coat and boots and returned Madeleine to her former glory. She hesitated before the door, waving Jean away until he was practically inside their apartment before raising her hand to knock.

‘You might have to knock a bit louder than that,’ Jean said gently, when there was no answer.

Maddie looked at him suspiciously. ‘What if he’s asleep?’

‘Then you’ll have to knock even louder to wake him up.’

‘Am I allowed?’

‘I think he’d like you to.’

So Madeleine knocked a bit louder, and then even louder again because the door was thick and her fist was very small. When Jeremy did answer the door Jean couldn’t see him because of where he was standing, so instead he watched Madeleine’s face light up in response to whatever Jeremy’s expression was.

‘Oh my god!’ Jeremy exclaimed. ‘Who is this elegant lady? Are you lost? Carnegie Hall is that way.’

Madeleine giggled and twirled and pranced and demonstrated a wobbly plié on request, and Jeremy’s reactions were perfect. And then, to Jean’s amazement, he ducked into his apartment and returned with a little cotton flower on a bendy stem.

‘It’s only small, since you’re just starting off,’ he explained, kneeling down to give it to her. Jean was practically falling out of his doorway. ‘But one day when you’re grown up, you’ll be able to fill a whole room with real ones.’

Then Jeremy scooped her up and gave her a hug, and carried her down the hall. Jean was just as dumbstruck as Madeleine, though he hoped that only one of them was experiencing chest pains.

‘This very talented child needs to be pampered, I think,’ Jeremy said, with a sparkle in his eye. He handed her over, and Madeleine peeked shyly at him from where her face was buried in Jean’s neck.

‘That was certainly a lot of excitement,’ Jean agreed. He set Madeleine down and told her to go straight to the toilet, then straightened up when she disappeared.

‘That was very sweet,’ he said seriously. ‘You made this even more special.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Honestly, this was the highlight of my day,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it all week.’

This touched Jean deeply, because it was exactly how he felt too.

‘Would you like to come inside, and get a firsthand report?’ he asked. ‘I’ll only tell it wrong.’

Jeremy hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘She’s probably tired.’

Jean gave him a wry look and pointed a finger over his shoulder towards where they could hear Madeleine chattering excitedly to no one about how great ballet was.

‘You don’t have to,’ he added. ‘But there’s iced tea in it for you if you do.’

‘Say no more,’ Jeremy said, stepping inside. Jean hadn’t had the foresight to step back, so they found themselves rather close, bunched up on their cheery doormat.

‘I hope this isn’t in lieu of date night,’ Jeremy added, with a little smile and quirk of his eyebrow.

‘No,’ said Jean, a little too quickly. ‘I uh, feel like this might be a whiskey night. Do you want to?’

Jeremy’s smile widened. ‘I think I could be persuaded.’

Madeleine gave a blow-by-blow account of the class as best she could, though Jean did rudely interrupt her several times to get her to eat and drink and get her elbow out of the yoghurt. Much of this was news to him too, since the walk home had been the Renée show, and he was pleased to hear that Maddie didn’t sound at all discouraged by her age or height. On the contrary, at one point she was almost bragging.

‘And then we had to do a demi-plié,’ she said, pronouncing it deliberately French, like it thrilled her. ‘And some of the other girls couldn’t do it but I could and Renée said I was very good and then she said this other boy was very good too but she said it to me first.’

‘Does her head look swollen to you?’ Jean murmured to Jeremy, who was sitting beside him and looked enchanted. Neither of them seemed to hear him.

Jeremy did have to leave shortly after that, remembering with a start that he had several errands to run.

‘I completely forgot,’ he said looking in disbelief at the time on his phone. 

’Are you still ok for tonight?’ Jean asked, trying not to sound any particular type of way. To his relief, Jeremy grinned at him.

‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘Never skip Thursday date night.’

That was the second time he’d called it that. Jean wasn’t sure how to respond, but Jeremy saved him the trouble by giving Maddie a kiss on the cheek and then doing the same to Jean.

‘Bye,’ he said quietly, his eyes briefly flickering up to Jean’s. And then he was gone.

Jean felt scalded. He raised a hand to his cheek and wondered if he was hallucinating. Madeleine hadn’t noticed anything and was now asking if Jean could make her a tutu to put on her Tigger plushie.

‘Sure,’ Jean said, heart thudding painfully. ‘Anything you like.’

 

 

It was as though Madeleine’s morning nerves had transferred over to Jean. One little kiss on the cheek and suddenly Jean was dropping things and losing his train of thought. After being presented with her dinner, Madeleine followed him back into the kitchen carrying her _Winnie the Pooh_  bowl. 

‘Papa, where’s the sauce?’ she inquired. ‘And the peas and carrots?’

Jean stared at her blankly and then looked down at the bowl of plain pasta he’d just served his child.

‘Oh. I’m sorry sweetheart,’ he said, taking the bowl from her. ‘Papa’s a little distracted this evening.’

‘Me too,’ said Maddie, climbing up on to the high stool at their little island. Jean smirked at her world-weary tone.

‘Oh yeah? What’s got you distracted?’

Maddie swung her legs off the stool as Jean added a little pesto to her pasta and poured in the peas and carrots. ‘I forgot one of the things that Renée taught us,’ she said, a touch of gloom in her voice.

Oh, to have a problem so easily solved, Jean thought. ‘Well,’ he said aloud. ‘It was only your first class. Renée doesn’t expect you to remember them all. That’s why you’re going back next week.’

When this was not greeted with immediate agreement, he added, ‘I’m sure Rose will practise with you on Tuesday. I bet she’ll want to ask you about some things she’s forgotten too.’

This was more favourably received, and Maddie happily ate her dinner while Jean sipped a cup of tea beside her and cursed himself.

He’d been _so firm_ about not starting something with Jeremy, and it had all been going according to plan. But all it had taken was the lightest peck on the cheek to completely throw Jean off his game. Not only was he reliving it constantly on a weird loop, but his brain kept trying to continue things. He wondered what would have happened if he’d kissed Jeremy’s cheek in response, or if he’d turned his head at the last second so that their lips brushed. Jean hadn’t been anything even approaching intimate with anyone in almost five years, so it wasn’t too surprising that he was letting himself run away with this one moment.

Then again, he thought, as he settled down to a game of chess with Madeleine, maybe things hadn’t been so innocent on his part either. Maybe Jeremy was just responding to signals that Jean had been putting out, consciously or unconsciously. Or perhaps Jeremy was simply being friendly. Jean and Maddie kissed hello and goodbye like that all the time - Jeremy might just have been trying to join in.

Jean’s heart sank, and it had nothing to do with Madeleine check-mating him with her usual regularity (though they were playing “Maddie Rules”, the specifics of which were known only to her).

Jean was heartened to see how peacefully Madeleine went to bed. Her worries assuaged and equilibrium restored, she was now able to fondly remember today’s ballet class and eagerly look forward to the next one. She snuggled up next to Jean as he read to her from their latest A.A. Milne instalment, and her only comment was that bouncing was rather like ballet, wasn’t it? Jean wondered what on earth Renée was teaching them.

Finally it was time to meet Jeremy. They had a standing 9:30 appointment, which was long enough from Maddie’s 8pm bedtime for Jean to get some work done and clean up after her little whirlwind self. He spent a long time reading the label on her ballet costume trying to figure out how best to wash it. It was times like these when he wished he had a mother to ask. Allison would surely know, he thought.

As promised, Jeremy brought the whiskey. Jean provided the glasses and cushions - Jeremy always had the green one with blue squares, and Jean the green one with blue circles. ‘We should get little deck chairs,’ joked Jeremy, pouring Jean a generous measure of whiskey. ‘We can be like those two old guys from the Muppets, grumbling at everyone who walks by.’

Jean smiled, though he didn’t get the reference. ‘Madeleine doesn’t watch that one,’ he said, accepting his glass and sitting down. ‘Is that with the frog?’

To Jean's pleasant surprise, Jeremy didn’t take his usual seat opposite Jean. Instead, he sat down on the other side the front door, body turned towards him and one knee folded.

‘It is,’ Jeremy confirmed, settling in. ‘She’d like it.’

After their usual few sips in companionable silence, Jean said, ‘Today went better than I could have dreamed.’

Jeremy looked at him excitedly. ‘Oh yeah? Tell me.’

Jean shuffled his cushion around so he could face him better. ‘I was so nervous about her not liking ballet that I kind of forgot to consider what would happen if she _loved_ ballet,’ Jean confessed. ‘It’s going to be so good for her. I mean, maybe she’ll make friends with some of the other children. I always thought she was kind of shy, but she’s already knocking around with Kevin and Rose like she grew up with brothers and sisters’ He paused. ‘I don’t have any siblings. I guess I didn’t notice how she’s changing.’

Jeremy watched him carefully. ‘You keep her very close,’ he said. ‘But that’s natural. It’s always just been the two of you.’

Jean nodded. ‘I know she’ll be going off with friends before I know it,’ he said slowly. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be ready for that, but now I know she will, so I’ll have to just pretend. I just never wanted her to feel like she wasn’t 100% wanted at home, so I suppose I never encouraged her to make friends either.’ He frowned. ‘I kind of swung all the way around on the swingset with that one.’

Jeremy smiled, and nudged him with his foot. ‘Oh no, you made a minor miscalculation out of love and devotion,’ he teased. ‘Hardly a black mark.’

Jean smiled back at him. This closeness was wonderful, but worries about Madeleine were still circling.

‘My parents gave me away because they didn’t want me,’ he said quietly. ‘Or at least, that’s what my uncle told me when I finally asked. He wasn't very stable, and I don’t know how much he made up about them, but that was the only answer I ever got.’

Jeremy’s face fell. ‘How cruel,’ he said, his brow creasing. ‘Did you ever get to contact them?’

‘As soon as I was old enough to use the internet I found an article from a French newspaper that advertised their death,’ Jean told him. ‘Or more specifically, my mother’s death. She followed my father, who’d died six months previous. The newspaper didn’t say how. But it also didn’t say that she was survived by anyone. No children.’

Silence fell around them. Jean couldn’t remember why in God’s name he’d brought this up.

‘It’s ok,’ he added finally. ‘I’m over it. I got a scholarship to Pratt and moved out. I used to stay late at school, painting. And my art teacher let me paint in his garage at night. I think he knew I didn’t have anything at home. He probably would have let me sleep on his couch too, but I always went home. My uncle called me a homing pigeon.’ Jean smiled humourlessly. ‘I think he was disappointed I didn’t run off at least once.’

‘It sounds like you wanted to hold on to whatever family you could,’ Jeremy murmured. ‘Is that why you took Madeleine?’

Jean looked at him swiftly, surprised at how quickly he’d made the connection. ‘Partly,’ he admitted. ‘I know there’s nothing wrong with adoption. I figured there was every chance she’d grow up with some wonderful parents and never care a bit about who her biological parents might be. But … I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t abandon her, right after I’d seen her there in front of me. She looked right at me.’ Jean shook his head. ‘The nurses all told me I was being a fool. They said no one could make a rational decision in that kind of situation, and I was following my heart and not my head. They told me to go get some sleep, and if I still felt the same way tomorrow morning then I could come back and take her home before social services arrived.’ Jean smiled at Jeremy, feeling that same warmth and excitement he’d felt that morning well up inside him again. ‘I was back at 8am. I would have been there earlier, but I had to go to the grocery store first and get supplies.’ He sighed. ‘And I haven’t slept since.’

Jeremy snorted in amusement, and then gave him such a fond look that it blew all the nostalgia right out of Jean’s head.

He let that look linger on Jean for a few moments, and Jean basked in it. It didn’t feel like flirting, but it certainly didn’t feel like nothing either.

‘I like you for that’ Jeremy said abruptly. ‘I mean, I like you for many reasons, but the way you refused to abandon her …’ He stopped, then started again. ‘I mean, like you said. Adoption is great. I don’t mean …’ He paused again, then sighed. When he looked up and met Jean’s eyes, there was a deep, old sadness behind them.

‘My mother left us,’ he said. ‘When I was seventeen. My dad kept it together for a while - kept his job, our house - but it all started to go wrong in my last year of college. He went downhill really fast. And we all tried finding her. She’d sent us a letter from …’ He paused again. ‘You know, I can’t even remember where,’ he half laughed. ‘She tried to explain herself, but she stayed gone. She just … didn’t want to be found.’

Jean frowned. ‘You know that it couldn’t have been about you,’ he said. He blamed Serena not one bit for wanting to proceed with herlife as planned, but he couldn’t imagine knowing and loving Madeleine for years and then walking away when there was so much of her life still to experience.

Jeremy only shrugged. ‘She never really said why,’ he said, musingly. ‘I suppose she had her reasons, even if we never understood them. I guess we were confused because she was always so reliable. Dependable. Like a parent should be. Honestly, if anyone was going to do a runner it should have been dad. But … he stuck by us, so we’re sticking by him.’

Suddenly much of the workings of Jeremy’s inner self became clear to Jean. Abandoned by his mother and feeling indebted to his father for not doing the same, and of course Jeremy’s sweet soul would feel no anger towards either of them. It also didn’t surprise Jean that Jeremy had become so attached to Madeleine. A soul like his should be surrounded by family, and would likely crave it; it was no wonder he was drawn to them.

‘Maybe one day you’ll get to experiment with what you really want to do,’ Jean said, almost to himself. He coughed apologetically when Jeremy looked at him sharply. ‘I mean, use your degree. Do what you love.’

Jeremy frowned. ‘I like what I do,’ he said. ‘Dan and Matt have done a lot for me. I really owe them.’

It seemed to Jean that Jeremy thought he owed many things to many people, but never himself.

The conversation stalled, and Jean didn’t feel comfortable in trying to start up something light after what had already been said.

‘Thank you for telling me all that,’ he said quietly. ‘And you’ll always be welcome in our family. It’s small, so there’s plenty of room.’

Finally, he had found the right thing to say. Jeremy looked up and gave him a very small but grateful smile, and nodded.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I know it’s kind of sad, but - ’

Jean shook his head firmly. ‘There’s no shame in wanting to feel close to people,’ he said softly. He’d said the same thing to himself when he’d decided to be a parent. He still wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t done a selfish thing, but this was what Jeremy needed to hear.

In response, Jeremy looked at him with eyes so vulnerable it took Jean’s breath away.

‘I do feel close to you,’ he said quietly. Then he amended, ‘To both of you.’

Jean felt it would be pointless to return the sentiment when he had surely already said as much, so he only gave him as much of a smile as he could muster.

They ended their evening a short while later, when the mood refused to lighten between them. The brief flicker of hope that Jean had felt earlier was dying like embers, losing its warmth as Jeremy got up and prepared to leave. Jean, unable to relinquish that hope quite yet, decided to return Jeremy’s kiss. His lips grazed his smooth cheek for the briefest of seconds, and Jeremy’s sharp intake of breath was loud in his ear.

‘Goodnight,’ he murmured, stepping back. Jeremy’s eyes were wide, and he didn’t respond. Hoping he’d done the right thing, Jean gathered up the cushions and glasses and went back inside.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a mixed chapter coming up next. We're getting Into It Now, lads. No more messing


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I am back! I've been living that overtime life but I'm free now so here's a super long chapter! Unfortunately it's also rather depressing lol sorry about that.
> 
> Happy Christmas if you celebrate, happy Sunday if you don't!
> 
> xoxo

Over the next few weeks, Jeremy started to feel a sense of comfort and permanence that he’d rarely felt before. Ever since he’d moved into his apartment he’d fantasised about leaving it and moving in with someone else, someone that he actually wanted to come home to. Rattling around in empty rooms every morning and waking up to silence was not how he wanted to live his life. But now he felt almost at home there, knowing that Jean and Madeleine were so close by. It was almost like they were just in the other room.

With this feeling came the knowledge that he was kidding himself in trying to pretend that he didn’t love the two of them. Jeremy got along with people in general; he had 600 Facebook friends and more contacts in his phone than he knew what to do with. He was a part of 6 active group chats, which was more time consuming than fun, but the only people he wanted to spend his time talking to had their own sweet little schedule that was entirely different to his own. And somehow they still found time to include him.

One afternoon, a text from Jean invited Jeremy on an afternoon walk to the duckpond.

 

 **Jean:**  Want to join us on an extra long walk to the duckpond? The rain has finally stopped!

 

Jeremy, lying in bed with a cup of coffee, wriggled happily. He had wondered before if Jean had just been looking for a babysitter but now he was now living a life where he didn’t really believe that, and it was starting to feel very good.

 

 **Jeremy:** I’d love to! When?

 

 **Jean:** An hour? She’s very hard to restrain but I really have to get some work done.

 

Jeremy saw the obvious solution straight away.

 

 **Jeremy:** Send her over here! We’ll do jumping jacks. Then come get us when you’re ready.

 

As expected, Jean took a few minutes to think about that. Jeremy wasn’t troubled; Jean made no decisions about Maddie in a hurry.

 

 **Jean:** Are you sure?

 

This was also a standard response.

 

 **Jeremy:** Yeah! We have things to discuss.

 

 **Jean:** Oh yeah? Like what?

 

 **Jeremy:** Mainly you. But also ballet and unicorns

 

 **Jean:** I approve of two out of three. When will I send her over?

 

Jeremy was already out of bed and halfway into the shower.

 

 **Jeremy:** I’ll come get her in ten!

 

Jeremy arrived on Jean’s doorstep in just under ten minutes. His hair was still wet, and he’d flown around his apartment removing anything inappropriate for a four year old, including the lighter on his coffee table and a beer bottle he’d left sitting out. He even cleaned up his bedroom in a big rush, even though she wouldn’t be going in there. Despite their now almost four month old friendship, Jeremy had rarely been left to care for Madeleine by himself. He had a feeling that Jean didn’t want to establish anything like a babysitter relationship. He was basing this theory on the fact that they hung out almost every day, but not once had he asked Jeremy to watch Madeleine for even an hour. Abby certainly wasn’t available all the time and Jeremy’s work hours were clearly established, so the opportunities were there. Jeremy was thinking about suggesting it, but hesitated just in case he was wrong and Jean just wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Which was still entirely possible.

Madeleine had a big smile for him when Jean opened the door. She was simply a delightful little thing to behold, Jeremy thought. Her hair was in two neat French braids and she was wearing a little cardigan and skirt ensemble that looked suspiciously like the regular-clothes version of her ballet outfit.

‘You look like an off-duty ballerina,’ he commented.

‘It’s called being on-theme,’ Jean told him, with a weary expression. But his little smile flickered into view when he met Jeremy’s eyes. ‘Thank you for watching her. I’ll be over as soon as I can.’

Jeremy gave him a warm smile in return. ‘Take as much time as you need,’ he said, smoothing his hand over Madeleine’s soft head in greeting as she moved to stand beside him. ‘We’ll be just fine.’

Madeline was clearly very comfortable with him by now. Though she had only been inside Jeremy’s apartment a few times, she marched in like she was a regular and looked around with interest.

‘Would you like some tea?’ he asked her politely. Madeleine nodded eagerly, and scrambled after him so she could be involved. Jeremy made a mental note to have her go to the toilet before they left.

Tea acquired, they sat back down on the couch and Madeleine told him everything about everything that was currently relevant in the Moreau household. After she’d drank about half of her cup, she abandoned it on Jeremy’s coffee table and rose up on her knees, shuffling very close to Jeremy before resuming her story about the bug on the window ledge.

‘And what did papa do to the spider?’ Jeremy inquired.

Maddie shook her head, wobbling slightly on her knees; she put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder to steady herself. ‘Nothin’,’ she said. ‘He’s scared of them too.’

Jeremy grinned. The idea of Jean being afraid of spiders was incredibly cute. ‘Well, maybe I can come over later and catch it for you,’ he said.

‘You can’t kill it!’ Madeleine said quickly. ‘Papa says.’

Of course he does. ‘I won’t kill it,’ Jeremy promised her. ‘I can catch it.’

Madeleine looked like she didn’t believe this for a second but was too polite to say. ‘Ok,’ she said, moving quickly along. ‘Will you be having dinner at our house?’

‘Well, I don’t know yet.’

‘Please?’ Maddie asked. ‘You haven’t been to our house for dinner in a long long long time. A really long time!’ She stretched her hand above her head for emphasis.

‘I was there last week, remember? We had cheesecake.’

‘That was _ages_ _ago_.’

‘I guess it was,’ Jeremy agreed, smiling. ‘What would you like to have for dessert next time?’

Madeleine was something of a baked goods connoisseur. Jean didn’t spoil her with treats but they were regular coffeeshop goers and Madeleine was a very curious child and, to Jeremy’s knowledge, Jean had never told her “I don’t know” in his life. Jeremy had a sudden urge to see the internet search history on Jean’s phone.

‘Cheesecake,’ Madeleine said.

‘Are you just saying that because we had it last week?’

Madeleine put her tiny hands over her mouth to stifle the sudden giggles. ‘Yes!’

‘You trickster.’

‘Can you make a lemon cheesecake?’ Madeleine asked suddenly.

‘Why, you don’t like strawberry?’

‘Strawberry is my favourite,’ Madeleine told him. It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed strawberry. ‘I had strawberries for my lunch yesterday. Strawberries and yoghurt.’

‘Wow, that sounds very nice,’ Jeremy agreed. ‘So why do you want a lemon cheesecake, sweetheart?’

Maddie dropped down on to her butt again, clearly very restless. ‘Papa’s favourite,’ she said distractedly.

Jeremy had already learned that Jean didn’t have much of a sweet tooth. If Jeremy was only in this for courtship reasons, he would have been very discouraged. Luckily, Madeleine loved sweets. But Jeremy eagerly filed away this preference for lemon; with a jolt, he remembered his _Lamingtons and Lemon Tart_ book that Laila had given him for Secret Santa. He fought the urge to run and get it.

Jean arrived over an hour later, by which point Jeremy was out of breath from teaching Madeleine how to do yoga. As most kids her age were, she had a boneless flexibility and ran rings around Jeremy, who felt like a geriatric in comparison.

‘It worries me that you look like you’ve been doing manual labor,’ Jean said, eyes narrowed. He stepped past Jeremy, eyes searching for Maddie. He was carrying her little yellow anorak and had his usual satchel slung around his body. Jeremy had learned recently that it solely contained Madeleine-related items at all times.

Madeleine was lying on her back on the rug in Jeremy’s tiny living room. They had pushed the coffee table out of the way to make room for activities, and she was trying her best to do the crab.

‘Madeleine, your modesty,’ Jean commented, sitting down on the couch and flicking her skirt, which was up around her waist.

‘Whassat?’ Madeleine asked, panting with the effort of being a contortionist.

‘Something you don’t have,’ Jean said, tickling her leg. She collapsed instantly in a heap of giggles, and then climbed up on to Jean’s lap.

Jeremy picked up Madeleine’s shoes while Jean snuck a cuddle. Sitting down beside them, he took first one foot and then the other, fitting the shoes on over her soft cotton tights.

‘Thank you Jeremy,’ Jean said pointedly, and Madeleine parroted him obediently.

‘Thank you,’ Jean added quietly, when the stood up. It sounded more meaningful than the deliberate attempt at reminding his daughter to be polite; he touched his arm when he said it, and gave him that flicker of a smile.

Every time Jean smiled at him, a light went on inside Jeremy.

It was still raining on and off, so they headed out in their raincoats. But rain or not, Madeleine was happy to be on the move. New York smelled fresh for a change, and the air clean. Maddie splashed her rubber boots into every puddle she found.

‘Ah, I’ll put her in the tub later,’ Jean said, waving away Jeremy’s brief concern that she was going to get muddy. ‘She likes to splash around while I read her stories.’

These little mentions of domesticity and sweet family life were like drugs for Jeremy. He’d never had anything stronger than pot in his life but now he was craving these moments like an addict.

They took the long way to their favourite duckpond, walking where they would usually have taken the train. Jean and Jeremy walked behind Madeleine, talking companionably. Jeremy couldn’t help but keep one eye on Madeleine, even though he knew Jean would of course be doing the same thing. But he did it like he watched out for traffic when crossing the road: automatically.

The duckpond was at the other end of a little park. Madeleine skipped ahead of them and practised her pirouettes and pliés and whatever else she was learning in class. It clearly wasn’t as easy in rubber boots as it was in her slippers but she was certainly giving it gusto.

‘Her dedication is impressive,’ Jeremy remarked. His hands were in his pockets, and his elbow brushed Jean’s occasionally as they wandered down the leaf-strewn path.

‘Did you ever play sports?’ Jeremy asked suddenly. He wasn’t sure why the question had popped into his head now, but he’d wondered before this. He’d been wondering a lot of things about Jean.

Jean glanced at him with an amused look on his face. ‘Is this because of my nose?’ he asked shrewdly.

‘No!’ Jeremy couldn’t help smiling at that mischievous look in Jean’s eyes. ‘Well, I mean I had wondered about it before, but I didn’t want to ask.’

‘Well, it’s not a sports injury,’ Jean told him. ‘I told you about my uncle, didn’t I?’

Jeremy nodded. He remembered Jean saying that he hadn’t been the most stable, or kind, of individuals, but nothing much else.

Jean just shrugged. ‘He broke it, once. It was the only time I was in hospital until Madeleine was born. I don’t think he even noticed. Just went about his evening. I stole twenty dollars from his sock drawer to get a cab to the hospital. Which is ironic, considering stealing his money is why he broke my nose in the first place.’

Jeremy was quietly appalled, and it must have shown on his face. ‘Don’t worry, I’m over it,’ Jean said, echoing what he’d said about his childhood in the past. ‘My entire life before Madeleine kind of became irrelevant once I had her. All the scars it left me with became easier to ignore, and forget about. I know they’re there - I see this one in the mirror every morning.’ He tapped his crooked nose and gave Jeremy a wry look. ‘But they’re not important anymore. I don’t define myself by them. She taught me that.’

They both paused to watch Madeleine crouched by the grass, trying to coax an uninterested squirrel.

‘Papa, can I have some of the duck food?’ she stage-whispered.

‘Madeleine, remember the talk we had about rabies?’ Jean said mildly, feet crunching on the gravelly path as he went to steer her back towards the pond.

There was a flock of feathery critters waiting for them at the duckpond. A few other people were walking around or reading on the benches, but the way the ducks eyes got brighter when they saw Madeleine’s yellow anorak and pink wellies coming told Jeremy that pickings were slim and that Madeleine was a regular.

‘How come you don’t feed them bread?’ Jeremy asked, as he accepted his handful of seeds from Jeremy.

‘Madeleine?’ Jean asked, glancing at her.

Madeleine leapt to answer the question. She drew in a great breath and then announced, ‘Bread, um, gets all soggy in the water, and isn’t good for the ducks’ tummies.’

‘We were at a talk from a park ranger last year,’ Jean added quietly to Jeremy. ‘It made a big impression. Though I did have to promise her that we definitely didn’t kill any ducks in the past.’

Jeremy snorted, even as he felt a twinge for how anxious Madeleine must have been at this news. She was very brave, going right up to the ducks and letting them peck right out of her hands.

‘She’s fearless,’ Jean said, standing back to admire her. ‘I still chase away the big ones because they look like they could knock her down, but she gets mad at me.’

Jeremy felt quite ready to charge some of the massing ducks himself, in case they mobbed her. They were giving Jean a healthy bit of space, though; clearly he too was a regular to this particular duckpond.

After they had exhausted their supply of seeds they moved on through the park. Jeremy had got bitten twice in as many seconds on the same finger and was quietly pretending like it hadn’t happened. It was ferociously painful but he didn’t want to ruin the mood. Madeleine was still skipping happily ahead, pausing every now and then to collect a pebble she liked the shape of, or some other item of interest. She’d run each item back to Jean, who’d tell her if she was allowed to keep it or not. The pink pebble was a yes; the damp mitten was a hard no. Rescued items went into Jean’s bag.

‘She forgets about most of them by the time we’re home,’ he confided in Jeremy. They were walking close together so they could talk about her in privacy, and the intimacy of the moment thrilled Jeremy. ‘I keep them for a day or so, just in case. Then I send them back from whence they came.’

Madeleine almost stopped Jeremy’s heart when she came running back to him with her hand outstretched. ‘Present,’ she said, handing him a giant daisy she’d plucked from the grass. Jeremy barely had time to thank her before she was off again.

‘Here,’ Jean said, taking it gently from him. He passed the stem through a buttonhole on Jeremy’s coat, then looped it around and through a tiny slit in the stem that he made with his fingernail.

‘There,’ he said, the flower now secure. Jeremy had to swallow hard and look away with only a mumbled thanks.

Jean only turned them for home once Madeleine started to slow, and ask to hold on to Jean’s hand more often. She’d still scamper ahead every now and then when she thought the adults were getting too slow, but she began trailing back sooner and giving them peaky little looks that suggested she was ready for treats and sitting down.

‘Ok,’ Jean said finally, stroking her head. ‘I think you’ve had enough.’

Jeremy’s own stomach was growling by now, so he happily followed them to a little bakery, where Madeleine waited until they’d both ordered croissants and coffee before deciding that she too would like a croissant.

‘And tea,’ she added. ‘Please.’ She smiled so sweetly at the waitress that if Jeremy had been in her shoes he would have given her a tea on the house.

‘Tiny cup, tiny,’ Jean muttered quickly to the waitress.

Madeleine looked thrilled when Jeremy started to slice his croissant and add butter and jam.

‘What are you _doing?_ ’ she asked, getting up on her knees again.

‘Madeleine, other people’s food is their business,’ Jean said sternly. ‘And sit down, please.’

‘Sorry,’ Madeleine said, dropping down on her butt again. ‘But - but what - ’

‘This is how I eat it,’ Jeremy said, amused by her curiosity. He glanced over at Jean, who was idly tearing his plain croissant to pieces with his fingers. ‘Maybe it's not the French way,’ he added, with a smile.

‘Can you do mine please?’ Madeleine asked, pushing her plate over.

Jean looked like he was about to intercede, but Jeremy put a hand on his wrist almost unthinkingly.

‘How about you try a bit of mine, and see if you like it?’ he suggested, his fingers still on Jean’s wrist. He hoped Madeleine’s answer was loud enough to drown out the pounding of his heart. Jean hadn’t moved his hand away, so Jeremy had to talk himself into doing it.

Madeleine chewed thoughtfully on her bite of Jeremy’s croissant, and then consented to having butter and jam on one half of her own. ‘One like Papa, one like Jeremy,’ she mumbled around flakes. Jeremy’s heart squeezed in his chest.

The sugar gave Madeleine a new lease of life. She managed to skip half the way home, but with about four blocks to go she suddenly drooped.

‘Tired,’ she mumbled, wriggling between Jean and Jeremy and taking Jean’s hand.

‘We’re nearly home,’ Jean said comfortingly.

‘Ok,’ Madeleine said agreeably. Then she reached up and took Jeremy’s hand too, and trotted along between them. Jeremy almost missed a step. He looked up at Jean feeling almost a little nervous about it; would he think Jeremy was overstepping? Jean was smiling down at Madeleine, like he almost always was, but he looked up and caught Jeremy’s eye. It was quite something to get caught in one of Jean’s smiles for Madeleine.

As usual, Jean invited him in once they reached their hallway.

‘I really can’t,’ Jeremy said, regretfully. ‘i have to get ready for Laila’s birthday. We’re going out but I said I’d do the cake for her party beforehand. I don’t even know what I’m doing yet.’

‘So you’ve got the night off?’ Jean asked, a note of interest in his voice.

‘Yeah,’ said Jeremy, lighting up hopefully. ‘Hey, it’s at a really good club in the city. Everyone’s invited - would you maybe wanna come?’

There was a brief moment where Jean actually appeared to consider this, and Jeremy’s brain flew ahead to thoughts of what might happen if Jean said yes.

‘Oh,’ Jean said. ‘That sounds fun. But … I mean, I can’t leave her. And Abby is working tonight, so.’ He shrugged. Jeremy wondered if he was imagining the wistful look on his face.

‘Oh, right,’ Jeremy said, disappointed. ‘But yeah, of course. I mean, I understand that.’

Jean nodded. He gave him a little smile, but it wasn’t his usual. It didn’t reach his eyes.

Jeremy opened his mouth without a clue of what he wanted to say, but Jean interrupted him. ‘Hey, so the word on the street is that you’re the one to talk to about catching spiders.’

Jeremy couldn’t help grinning at him. ‘When did she tell you that?’

‘When you were pretending that duck didn’t bite you,’ Jean returned. This time the smile was in all the right places. ‘So, how about you come in and save us from the monster, and I can take a look at your hand.’

So Madeleine and Jean watched in fascinated horror as Jeremy caught the large spider lurking in the corner of their living room window. Madeleine asked to see the spider once it was curled in Jeremy’s palm, but Jean walked away shuddering.

‘You sure you don’t wanna see it?’ Jeremy called after him, smirking.

‘No!’

Jeremy pulled a face at Madeleine that made her burst into giggles. ‘Are you gonna throw the spider out the window now?’ she asked, seeming half-fascinated but still as repulsed as Jean clearly was.

‘Yeah I think that’s the best thing to do,’ Jeremy said, unlatching the window and shaking the spider off his hand. ‘Say bye bye spider.’

‘His name is George,’ Maddie said solemnly, waving her fingers.

‘It _was_ George,’ called Jean from the kitchen. He remerged holding a little first aid kit, but gave Jeremy a long hard look to make sure the spider was gone before beckoning him over.

‘Give me your hand,’ Jean said. With quick, deft motions he cleaned the bite on Jeremy’s finger with disinfectant.

‘You were very good at pretending this didn’t hurt,’ he remarked quietly. Jeremy unfortunately couldn’t think up a clever response while Jean was holding his hand and being so gentle with him.

He winced a little as Jean pressed the cotton swab down. ‘Sorry,’ Jean murmured, glancing up at him. ‘Which one got you?’

Jeremy smiled ruefully. ‘The big one,’ he replied. ‘Little bastard.’

Jean snorted with laughter, and his eyes sparkled when they met Jeremy’s.

‘Hand all better?’ Madeleine asked, coming over for a look.

‘Yeah, see?’ Jeremy showed her. ‘Papa bandaged it all up for me.’ He glanced back at Jean. ‘To be clear, I’m not referring to you as my father, that was for Madeleine’s benefit only.’

‘Uh huh,’ Jean replied, sounding amused. He nudged Jeremy gently with his shoulder. ‘Thanks for clarifying that.’

‘Ok, alright,’ Jeremy smiled, nudging him back with a burst of delight. ‘I guess that’s my cue to leave.’

‘Why can’t you stay?’ Madeleine asked, frowning. ‘I thought you were staying. For dinner.’ She beckoned to Jeremy, and he crouched down obediently.

‘The lemon thing,’ she whispered significantly in Jeremy’s ear.

‘Next time,’ Jeremy assured her. ‘It’ll be extra lemony.’

This seemed to please Madeleine. She nodded and patted Jeremy’s cheek before heading off towards her Princess Unicorn Dream House.

‘Bye Maddie,’ Jeremy murmured.

‘Did I hear something about lemon?’ Jean asked.

Jeremy straightened up and wagged a finger at him. ‘You heard nothing,’ he said sternly. ‘Now let me leave.’

Jean stepped back with a small bow to let him by. ‘Come back soon.’

‘Back soon!’ echoed Madeleine, waving from the corner.

Once home, Jeremy tried to throw himself into Laila’s cake and all associated birthday preparations. He put Alvarez on speakerphone and let her stress about her gift for Laila while Jeremy painstakingly iced the cake.

‘Did you do the boobs?’ Alvarez inquired.

‘No, I did not do the boob cake,’ Jeremy said, eyes on the cake. ‘I did a classy cake.’

‘Boring.’

‘And I wrote “Happy Birthday You Useless Lesbian” in pink icing,’ he continued.

‘ _Awesome._ ’

Cake done, Jeremy muddled around trying to decide what to wear and whether or not it was a makeup kind of night. Jeremy liked parties, but baking the cake had got him thinking about what to make for dessert next time he went over to Jean and Madeleine’s. He ended up waiting on the curb carrying the cake and wearing eyeliner and glitter. He was feeling tetchy; he’d had a couple of drinks after he’d gotten out of the shower, and they weren’t sitting well in his stomach. He'd swapped out his raincoat for a fitted short dress coat; as he'd hung up the raincoat in the shower to dry off, he'd spotted Madeleine's little flower with a jump of his heart. He removed it carefully from the buttonhole and put it between the pages of the only book he owned; a copy of  _The Jungle Book_ that his mother had given him when he was seven. 

Laila’s little apartment was wedged with people. She cried over her cake, and hugged and kissed Jeremy until Alvarez cough impatiently. Everyone had a slice, and Jeremy smuggled a piece into a stolen Tupperware container because the cake was strawberry and Madeleine loved strawberry. He snuck it into his bag, thinking he could get Laila to bring it to work tomorrow.

Jeremy had started on some Bacardi he had leftover at his house, but Laila had opened bottles of vodka and was passing it around. Jeremy was a veteran of seeing the effects of mixing drinks, but he went along with it because it would have been rude to ask for something else. It was his own fault for starting so early, anyway.

Laila had a lot of friends. Jeremy leaned against a wall as people swarmed around him, and gradually began to warm up. Jeremy normally approached social situations without any preconceptions about who he might be looking for, but he had to admit that he’d been thinking more about men lately. This is partly why he’d gone with makeup for tonight; rude jokes aside, makeup made him look and feel more queer, and he wanted men to notice him.

One in particular was definitely noticing him. Henry Mashad had worked at The Basilica for six months as a bartender before he'd had a massive argument with Neil and just walked out one night. Neil had never talked about it and all Henry would say about it was “Never come between a man and his cats”, but he was still a pretty fun guy, and now he was smiling at Jeremy.

Jeremy fell into the familiar pattern of flirtation. He and Henry talked in a group at Laila’s, then paired up on the train into the city. By the time they made it to their first stop - a glitzy cocktail bar in the city - Henry’s hand was on the small of Jeremy’s back and they were talking about the kind of nothing in particular that was just a prelude to not talking at all.

‘How come we never hung out more when I worked at Basilica? Henry asked, lounging against a wall in the smoking area. He was a good-looking guy, with brown skin and black curls and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Jeremy shrugged at him, mouth curling up into a little smile. ‘What, you mean you didn’t notice me hitting on you like every time we worked the middle bar?’

‘That’s not true,’ Henry protested, but he was grinning. Jeremy liked how he looked with a stray curl falling near his eye and a cigarette resting between his fingers. ‘You were not flirting with me.’

‘It was a subtle flirting.’

‘You’ve gotta be more obvious with me,’ Henry told him, sliding a little closer with smile.

Jeremy always appreciated how straightforward it could be with men. Henry couldn’t be more obvious right now if he tried. The music from the bar was loud and rattling his teeth, completely at odds with the classy surroundings and expensive drinks. The bass seemed to vibrate through his body and push him towards Henry. God, he needed to get laid. Even now, Jeremy was thinking about Jean, wondering if he ever smoked and had to quit because of Madeleine. Smoking was an artist thing, wasn’t it? Jeremy wondered if Jean ever rolled a paintbrush between his long, sensual fingers, just to enjoy the memory of it.

‘Hey,’ Henry said, bringing him back with a little wave of his fingers. He was still smiling, but there was a small crease between his eyes, like he was wondering if Jeremy really was just kidding.

‘Sorry,’ said Jeremy, with a little shake of his head. ‘Just got lost in your eyes.’

Henry grinned and laughed, and they were back on track.

They were briefly interrupted by the arrival of Laila and Alvarez and a small entourage of their friends. It was impossible not to look at Laila when she got dressed up, and tonight was no exception. She was wearing a tight red dress that hugged her body, and her long blonde hair was in loose, glossy curls that caught the light. She also had the uncanny ability of walking like a gazelle even after three hours of steady drinking in the highest pair of heels. Alvarez was a pretty girl too, but she acted like Laila was the only one worth looking at; even now, she was hanging back from Laila, letting everyone admire her, and wearing a nondescript black dress that did nothing for her. Jeremy had seen her looking better at work.

‘Are they together now?’ Henry asked, nodding at the two of them. Alvarez had plucked up the courage to take Laila’s hand again at least, but she kept flicking her hair self-consciously.

‘Yeah, pretty much,’ Jeremy responded. ‘I still think Sara’s a bit intimidated, though.’

Henry snorted. ‘Alvarez, intimidated?’

‘She’s not so tough,’ Jeremy murmured. But he couldn’t linger on that thought, because Henry’s body was suddenly very close to his.

‘You know, maybe I did notice,’ he said, and Jeremy felt a little shiver at his words. Being pursued was enjoyable, and it gave Jeremy something else to focus on besides Jean. ‘You _are_ kind of obvious.’

He leaned in to nose at Jeremy’s cheek, one hand creeping around to his waist. Henry was trying to pull him in, but Jeremy felt a little tug in the opposite direction.

‘Sounds like you’re in buy-me-a-drink territory,’ Jeremy commented, smiling and cocking his head but placing one hand on Henry’s chest anyway. ‘Vodka soda?’

Henry didn’t seem bothered; it was a bit of fun to him too. He moved away to get them both drinks, and Jeremy took the time to check his phone. His heart jolted almost painfully when he saw a text from Jean. There was a photo attached.

Madeleine, in her pink Winnie the Pooh pyjamas, was crouched beside what Jeremy recognised as the corner between the kitchen and the hallway down to their bathroom. Trapped under a glass was a spider so big Jeremy could see it even at a distance. Jean’s caption read:

 

_Would be very grateful if you could come over tomorrow and help us evict “Paul”. PS did you introduce her to The Beatles?? :)_

 

As texts from Jean went, this was a particularly emotive one. He was only trying to be friendly, but to Jeremy it felt like a personal assault. Jean knew he was out tonight. It was like he was trying to show Jeremy what he was missing.

Approximately one second after he’d had this thought, Jeremy decided he was going insane. That was such a profoundly irrational reaction to a sweet gesture made by _his friend_ that he felt like just giving up and going home right now. The alcohol was clearly making him stupid. Jeremy tried to calm himself before Henry came back and got entirely turned off. He needed to have sex. He needed to get lost in someone who wanted him, someone he could actually have.

So when Henry came back, Jeremy sipped his drink and cozied up to him, and the next time Henry leaned in Jeremy didn’t stop him.

The kiss was brief, but intense; just a taste. Henry leaned back and licked his lips contemplatively, his dark eyes sparkling.

‘Need another drink?’ he asked.

Jeremy slipped a hand down and into Henry’s. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll come with you.’

But after that, Jeremy needed another drink, because he still wasn’t quite sure. They moved in and out of different groups, and sometimes Jeremy forgot whose hand was in his, and whose arm sometimes slipped around his waist possessively.

At some point the decision was made to change venue. It was all getting a bit blurry for Jeremy; he wasn’t sure if this was planned, or if it was simply the whim of the crowd, but he was happy enough to go where he was told.

There were no cabs in sight, so a jumble of them made their way downtown, destination unknown. Jeremy could just about see Laila’s blonde hair and red dress in the distance, but he was approaching the stage of drunk where normally he’d be searching for a flat surface to lie down on.

‘Hey,’ said Henry, propping him up slightly. ‘You good?’

Jeremy was probably not good, but Henry was a decent guy and would likely call him a cab if he said so. So instead Jeremy gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded.

’Ok,’ said Henry, with a smile. ‘Hey, how about we go in here?’ He gestured to the club on the other side of the street. ‘Away from the crowd for a while?’

Jeremy recognised the bar as a slightly seedier version of Basilica, but his nose was cold and he really wanted to sit down, so he let Henry lead him away from his friends and into the welcome warmth and bass of the club. Dan would have slapped his head for even crossing the threshold, but there was appeal in that too.

He insisted on buying the first round just so he could make it a shot. Henry, not to be outdone, ordered them two more when those were gone. Jeremy could feel it all hitting his stomach rather hard, so when Henry leaned in and kissed him again he decided to prolong it.

Jeremy pulled him out on to the dance floor and in amongst the writhing bodies. There was something oddly private about spaces like this, where nothing was static and no one was paying attention to you. Jeremy got his hands in Henry’s hair and let himself be kissed senseless - not that he’d been very far away from that to begin with. Henry’s scent was unfamiliar and his hands were rough and insistent - not unpleasantly so, but Jeremy wasn’t used to the feel of him yet, so it threw him off.

When Henry jerked his head towards the bathroom, Jeremy readily agreed because he was kind of feeling like throwing up. The tequila had been a terrible idea. He could just about manage to hold on to Henry’s hand as he tugged him off the dance floor.

He was a little bit surprised when Henry followed him into the stall, and even more so when he started kissing him again. Jeremy was so drunk that he couldn’t move past  _Does he need to throw up too_ to make the necessary connections.

‘What’re you doing?’ he slurred, pulling back for air.

Henry ducked in to kiss his neck, hard. His stubble burned on Jeremy’s skin.

‘So are you still as fun as everyone said you were?’ he breathed against him, hands moving over Jeremy’s body.

This didn’t make a whole lot of sense to Jeremy. ‘What d’you mean?’ he mumbled, still enjoying the kissing but really needing to throw up at the same time.

Henry’s hands were suddenly hard on his ass, and he was pushing up against him in a way that made his intentions explicit to even Jeremy’s addled mind. ‘You know what I mean,’ he said, pushing insistently at him. ‘I was gonna take you home, but fuck you’re too hot.’ His mouth moved back to Jeremy’s neck again, and his kiss was so good it would have completely distracted Jeremy from his words were it not for the hard dick pressing against his thigh.

‘Um, hang on,’ Jeremy tried, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. It came out as more of a little moan, which Henry clearly took as encouragement.

‘People said you’d go home with anyone,’ Henry went on, slipping a hand down the back of Jeremy’s pants. ‘Anyone who smiled nice enough. I always wanted to try, but I wasn't sure you'd bother with me.’

Jeremy didn’t remember any of that. He wondered if Henry was thinking of someone else.

‘I thought you looked too sweet to be a slut,’ Henry added, still pawing at him. ‘Guess I was wrong.’

That sting registered even through the haze of alcohol. Jeremy’s mouth curved down, and he started to push back a little.

‘Hang on,’ he said, but the room was spinning. If Henry let him go, he might fall down. ‘Wait.’

Panic brushed butterfly wings against his stomach when Henry didn’t immediately stop. Jeremy slapped his shoulder and said his name louder, and finally got his attention.

‘What? What's wrong?’ Henry drew back, his gaze confused; he looked just as drunk as Jeremy.

‘Get out,’ Jeremy said, anxiety rising up inside him. Anxiety, and something else. ‘I’m gonna be sick, get out.’

He pushed him through the door and locked it again just in time to stick his head in the bowl. After about ten minutes of punishment Jeremy emerged with his head absolutely swimming and feeling like he’d just died. Henry was nowhere to be seen, so he washed his mouth out as best he could and stumbled back out into the club.

 

Jean couldn’t sleep.

On a normal day he usually collapsed into bed and fell asleep without a thought in his head. He had two full-time jobs and slept with one ear open so that he might stay on call for the most important one. Even his worst worries couldn’t keep him up too late.

But Jeremy was on his mind tonight. Jean had thought that if he just kept telling himself that it was all platonic and he didn’t want anything but friendship from Jeremy then it would just come true. He hadn’t had these types of feelings for anyone in years, long before Serena talked him into sleeping with her. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite like this about anyone at all before.

It was just after 5am on Monday morning. He usually woke Maddie at 7 and brought her over to Abby’s at 7:30. He’d already gone over his usual thoughts and concerns; Madeleine’s ballet classes were going well, which was good, and Jean and Amy’s new _Silly Lily_ book had been submitted for final edits, which was also good. However, the gallery where Jean displayed some of his paintings was having a reshuffle for new artists, which Jean knew very well was code for “Your paintings aren’t selling”. The gallery didn’t owe him anything; he’d done two exhibitions since leaving college and becoming a parent, and both had produced only very modest sales. If it weren’t for Amy and her profound love of the way Jean drew children, he’d be in very bad shape.

Sometimes Jean wished he had the time and energy to create something like _Starlight_ again. In the first six months of being a parent Jean had been basically living off his savings and hardly eating anything at all. He hadn’t so much as glanced at a paintbrush. One night Madeleine simply wouldn’t settle, so he sat by the window with her and just talked to her. Over the sounds of her miserable wails, he explained everything he knew about the sky and the stars and the world that she was going to grow up in. He told her about all the other babies who lived in different countries, and how they were all looking up at the same moon as she was. He talked until he was hoarse and Maddie was blinking her damp eyes up at him, almost like she was waiting to hear more.

After that, Madeleine began to get a bit better at sleeping, and Jean found himself telling her more of the story. Talking led to drawing, and eventually Jean had a 15 page storyboard in large portrait proportions and not a clue what to do about it. It wasn’t until Madeleine was almost a year that Amy spotted him on a park bench redrawing one of the pages while he rocked his fussing child back and forth in her stroller.

 _Starlight_ hardly needed much of a story - what Amy gave it was her name. Jean was a nobody, but after Amy had spun Jean’s fumbling explanation into sweet children’s poetry suddenly people were calling him Mr Moreau and he had to find a tie to wear to meetings. Amy fixed him up with a nanny for those meetings, which meant Jean fidgeted through them all and hardly heard a word about contracts and royalties and all of that. Luckily Amy was honest and took pity on him, or Jean might have been swindled out of everything.

It was the beginning of a profitable and professional relationship, but while the profits from _Starlight_ were considerable and tucked away in Madeleine’s college fund account, _Silly Lily_ was Amy’s creation, which meant she was the main benefactor.  _Starlight_ was still putting money into his account, but nothing like it had when it had first hit the shelves. That had been a busy few months. It was partly that which stopped Jean from doing something like it again, even though Amy encouraged him almost every time they met. It would have been purely for profit, Jean argued. Much as he liked drawing pictures for children, his heart lay on a canvas, where he could start off knowing nothing and end up looking back at something true.

Jean wandered these familiar paths of his mind for a while until he could take it no longer. He knew he really needed the sleep, but instead he got up and wandered out into the living room. He had to be quiet, because Madeleine’s sleep was ten times more important than his own, and if she heard him up and possibly having fun without her there’d be no persuading her to go back to sleep.

Jean flicked on a small lamp on the corner table and settled down on the couch to get some work done. He was bleary eyed and wanted coffee, but had to settle for chugging some water and doing the best that he could on fuck all sleep. The apartment was entirely silent; he could hear a tap dripping in the bathroom. On his way back from irritably tightening it, he heard a thump from out in the hallway.

Jean froze, waiting for further sounds. His apartment door was double locked but there was not a single threatening situation that he hadn’t fully thought out and planned for since Madeleine was born. He was flicking back and forth between scenario #45 and scenario #17 when he heard a familiar tone echo in a frustrated exclamation.

All of Jean’s safety protocols dictated that he should not open the door. Then there was another thump that sounded like a body hitting the ground, and Jean’s fingers were fumbling with the locks.

He peered out down the dark corridor, and could just make out Jeremy’s small form crumpled in his doorway. He dithered for about three seconds before pulling the door shut and hurrying down towards him, heart clenching with anxiety.

‘Jeremy,’ he said quietly, dropping to his knees beside him. ‘Hey, are you ok? Can you sit up?’

Jeremy was barely conscious and was making distressed little noises. Jean could hardly see him in the low light, but he was freezing cold and smelled like dry ice and alcohol.

‘Where’s your key?’ Jean asked, patting him down and searching inside his pockets. ‘Do you have your key?’

Jeremy could only mumble incoherently. Something about his behaviour made Jean go cold.

‘Jeremy, hey, listen to me,’ he said, patting Jeremy’s cheeks in an effort to keep him awake. ‘Jeremy, have you taken anything? Come on, wake up.’

He could feel Jeremy’s heart beating fast when he put a hand on his chest. Jean didn’t have a clue what to do, but key or no key he knew he couldn’t just send him off into his apartment by himself. He pulled Jeremy’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up off the floor. He wasn’t near as heavy as he should have been, and his head lolled on to Jean’s shoulder as he got his feet underneath him.

‘Good, that’s good,’ Jean encouraged him quietly, beyond relieved to see that he could walk and didn't seem to be in any pain.They hobbled down the hallway and into Jean’s apartment, and which point Jean remembered Madeleine. If she woke up and saw Jeremy in this state it would completely freak her out. Whatever Jeremy had gotten into tonight, it didn’t fit with the Jeremy that Jean knew. It would be hideously unfair on both of them if the issues that had put Jeremy in this situation had a negative impact on his friendship with Madeleine.

There was only one sensible course of action to follow. As quietly as he could manage, he got Jeremy through the living room and into his bedroom, closing the door almost fully behind him. Madeleine was asleep just on the other side of the hallway.

Jeremy didn’t seem to know what was happening, but he was oddly calm. Even half out of his mind with alcohol and god knows what else, he was still determined not to cause a fuss. He turned his head and nuzzled quietly into Jean’s neck as Jean tried to figure out if waking up in his bed would freak Jeremy out or not. It was rather distracting that underneath the smell of cigarettes and booze, Jean could still detect a hint of jasmine from Jeremy’s skin and hair.

Eventually he decided that their friendship could take the hit, and proceeded to take off Jeremy’s shoes and jacket before pushing him gently down on to the bed and covering him with the blanket. Jean even tucked him in automatically, because the only person he was used to doing this for always insisted on it. In the dim light of morning that was beginning to illuminate the room, Jean could see that Jeremy’s lips were bitten and his eyelids were smudged with black. There were also the beginnings of a love bite on his neck that made Jean avert his gaze. Tear tracks marked Jeremy’s pale, peaky face as he turned his head slightly, burrowing down into Jean’s pillow. He should have put him on the other side of the bed, Jean realised belatedly. Jeremy would definitely think this was weird now.

But Jeremy’s breathing was starting to even out, and he wasn’t showing any signs of vomiting or going into cardiac arrest. Jean was still worried; after listening intently at Maddie’s door for a minute or so, he crept back into his bedroom.

Jean wasn’t sure what to do next. Jeremy looked to be out cold, but he’d been in such a terrible state that Jean didn’t feel comfortable leaving him. He snuck out to get a glass of water and two Tylenol, but after those were safely placed on his bedside locker he had a good bit of time to kill before it was time to wake Maddie. He couldn’t go back to sleep, obviously. He didn’t feel right just sitting and staring at him, but he also didn’t want to leave him alone, just in case. Just until he knew he was definitely ok.

So Jean went and got his sketchpad and sat in his little chair by the window. It was old and very worn and patched, but had travelled with the from their very first apartment where he’d sat in it to nurse Madeleine. In the pale blue light coming in from behind the curtain, he sketched out a few random things until his hand found the familiar rhythm of the silhouette from his painting. He’d been wondering about it almost every night before he went to sleep. Sometimes it wasn’t just one figure; in his latest attempt at the studio, he’d created a multitude of slippery gold creatures who tore up into the sky and danced around in the smoky darkness. Jean couldn’t figure it out at all, but it was starting to become a series. Definitely a departure from what he was used to. But then, maybe it was better that some of his earlier stuff was forgotten, especially when his name was tied to a children’s book series. A lot of his earlier stuff were nudes.

His phone alarm vibrated softly on the arm of the chair. Jean silenced it with a swift look at Jeremy, who thankfully hadn’t stirred. Jean glanced down at his sketchpad and discovered he’d been drawing eyes, lips, jawlines, fingers. He closed the book carefully before slipping out of the room to wake the princess.

Madeleine went from zero to one hundred as usual, marching out of her room with the confidence of one who has the world at her fingertips. Jean knew he couldn’t shush her, but he winced every time her high little voice called a question or comment to him from across the apartment. As calmly as he could, he got her washed and dressed and fed, and put her hair into two long French braids as requested. She’d seen it on another girl at ballet, and had been fascinated both by the hairstyle itself and by the act of hair rebellion by the other girl. At ballet, your hair must be in a bun, she told Jean sternly. Otherwise it might get caught.

‘Caught on what?’ Jean had asked her.

Madeleine’s eyes had widened seriously. ‘Everything,’ she’d replied.

Luckily, YouTube could teach you just about anything. Jean could now whip her hair into two neat braids with practised ease, and when he was done Madeleine ran her fingers over the criss-cross pattern on her head with satisfaction.

‘Time to go!’ she announced, picking up her little pink backpack. Jean always had to negotiate with her on what went into it, but this morning he’d let her have free reign. So far there was a book of Sudoku puzzles, Tigger in his new pink tutu, an apple, and a handful of potpourri.

‘Don’t forget to say please and thank you to Abby,’ Jean reminded her, as they headed for the door. ‘And be nice to Kevin.’

‘I will,’ Madeleine replied. Jean had to stop and look at her before they went out the door, because sometimes she made his heart stop with love for her. She was buttoning up her little cardigan and smoothing down her skirt, looking neat as a pin, and Jean suddenly wanted to scoop her up and hold her close and never let her out into the world.

Madeleine allowed him approximately twenty seconds of teary-eyed contemplation of how the years do fly by before she was rattling the door handle like an impatient cat.

‘Yes Miss Maddie,’ he said formally, opening the door for her and shooing her out into the hall.

Once Madeleine was safely deposited with another competent adult, Jean could start to think again. He had another quick look in at Jeremy to make sure that he was still alive, then went and had the fastest shower of his life. He hadn’t been so anxious about someone else in his house since he’d first brought Madeline home.

He’d been planning his usual Monday routine of groceries and laundry, but now parked it briskly without a second thought. He cleaned the apartment as quietly as he could, which took him about thirty minutes total, and then went and had some breakfast. He hoped the smell of the coffee might revive Jeremy, but no luck. Jean loitered around his bedroom doorway sipping coffee and wondering what to do next. Eventually it occurred to him that this was a golden opportunity to get some extra work done, so he retreated to the kitchen table and got his things together.

The apartment was as silent as it had been all night, but Jean may as well have been trying to work in the middle of the St Patrick’s Day parade. Every tiny sound made him pause and look up expectantly at the doorway. He knew he was being entirely ridiculous, but he kept thinking back to Jeremy’s tear-stricken face and panicked heartbeat when he’d found him last night. He longed for Jeremy to wake up; maybe they could talk about it.

He had to take a phone call with Amy at around 11am. He spoke quietly to her in the kitchen, and then their editor Shane conferenced in, so Jean ended up listening to them talk back and forth about potential launch dates and arguing over the cover design. Jean had done three mock-ups for them and didn’t mind which one they used, so he wasn’t too involved in the conversation but was happy enough to let them hash it out on speaker while he used a couple of brown and red pencils to sketch an approximation of the figures he wanted to paint in the sky.

A subtle noise from the other side of the apartment got Jean’s attention. He left his partner and his editor arguing on the phone in the kitchen and stepped into the living room, ears straining towards the bedroom.

He could hear definite stirring now, and a muffled sound like someone realising they were not where they expected to be. Trying not to make a ruckus, he hurried back into the kitchen.

‘Hey, guys, sorry - I’ve got to go,’ he said to his phone. ‘My, uh - daughter. She’s home early. Can I call you back?’

‘Oh don’t worry, Jean,’ Amy said. ‘We’re probably just gonna argue this out until we’re set on a cover design. Everything on your end looks good.’

Shane added something about meetings and an email. Jean nodded along and almost forgot to say goodbye.

He entered the living room just in time to see Jeremy stumble out of the bedroom carrying his jacket in one hand. His hair was a bird’s nest and his clothing was rumpled, and he looked like he didn’t quite know where he was.

‘Jeremy.’

Jean said his name in the hopes of getting his attention, but Jeremy startled badly at the sound.

‘Jean?’ He looked utterly confused. ‘Am I …?’

Jean gave him a little smile. ‘Are you alright?’ he asked, unable to keep the concern from his voice. Jeremy was still horribly pale; the black smudges around his eyes stood out as vividly as the mark on his neck.

Jeremy’s eyes finally focused on Jean. He seemed to wilt under his gaze, shrinking in on himself and leaning against the wall.

‘Jean,’ he murmured, rubbing his arm. ‘I’m sorry. How did I …?’

Jean had suspected Jeremy would be mortally embarrassed, so he tried to spare him. ‘Come sit down on the couch,’ he said, beckoning. ‘There’s coffee.’

He turned back to the kitchen to allow Jeremy to make his way to the couch in peace. Jean made the coffee and put together a mug the way Jeremy liked it - enough cream and sugar so that it was barely coffee anymore - and brought him a cold bottle of water just in case he’d missed the glass in the bedroom. When he returned, Jeremy was sitting on the couch with his head hanging low.

‘Here,’ Jean said gently, setting both mug and bottle on the coffee table. He hesitated before sitting down on the couch next to Jeremy, wondering if they were going to talk about it.

‘Thank you,’ Jeremy said quietly. He reached out with a shaking hand for the water and took a few unsteady sips. ‘I, um.’ He coughed a little, and started again. ‘I’m sorry. Did I - god, did I wake you? Did I wake - ‘

‘No, I was already up,’ said Jean calmly. ‘You didn’t wake anyone.’

‘But I didn’t - I mean - Jean, how did I get here?’ Jeremy’s colour was finally coming back, but only high on his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

‘Jeremy,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s alright. You must have lost your key. I just put you in my bed because - well, because Madeleine would have disturbed you.’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘She’s very loud first thing in the morning.’ He paused, considering. ‘But before that, I’m afraid I don’t know what you were up to.’

Jeremy looked down at his hands. He took the coffee as though for something to do.

‘I don’t know either,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m sure it was nothing. Just a wild night. I don’t normally - I mean, it just got out of hand.’

‘You don’t need to explain yourself,’ Jean said. ‘Nothing I haven’t seen before. But … you seemed kind of anxious. Like maybe you’d had a fight with someone?’

Jeremy flinched. ‘I don’t remember,’ he said quickly. ‘And I’m sure it’s nothing important. Not worth talking about.’

‘If it’s upsetting you then it’s worth talking about,’ Jean disagreed quietly. ‘Jeremy, is everything alright? I don’t just mean tonight.’

It looked like the words were stuck in Jeremy’s throat.

‘I don’t know,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Nothing’s wrong but … nothing’s right, either.’

He looked so lost. Jean ached to reach out and comfort him in some way.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked. Tentatively, he leaned across and touched the back of Jeremy’s hand, the one with the bandaged finger. ‘It might be good to just talk about it.’

Jeremy opened his mouth, then closed it again and screwed his eyes up for a brief second.

‘Can’t talk about it with you,’ he muttered, almost to himself. Jean’s heart jumped a little, and he withdrew his hand. Jeremy’s eyes flew open.

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Jean I’m sorry - I’m sorry I’m here, I shouldn’t be. It’s inappropriate.’

Jean blinked, wondering how drunk Jeremy still was. ‘It’s not inappropriate,’ he said, confused. ‘We’re friends.’ Was there something inappropriate about that?

But Jeremy wasn’t to be convinced. He stood up and grabbed his jacket from where it was draped over the arm of the couch. ‘I should go,’ he was saying, shrugging on his jacket. ‘I really didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll go get my spare from the landlord. Oh, do you want me to catch that spider while I’m here? Or - no, sorry, I should just go. I’m sorry.’

‘Jeremy.’ Jean would have laughed in disbelief if Jeremy’s distress hadn’t been so upsetting. He followed him to the door and caught his arm before he could leave.

‘Jeremy, wait,’ he said, but Jeremy struggled, dashing a humiliated tear from his cheek with his free hand. Jean pulled him away from the door as gently as he could. ‘Stop, stop,’ he murmured, catching his other wrist. ‘Please stop.’

Jeremy’s body gave a great shudder as he inhaled an unsteady breath - and then his forehead fell on to Jean’s shoulder in complete surrender. Jean was caught off guard, and was too surprised to hug him like he should have. Instead he just held on to Jeremy’s wrists as gently as he could and let him hide his face while he caught his breath.

‘It’s alright,’ he said softly. ‘It’s ok.’

Jeremy’s body was a small, exhausted thing. He trembled against Jean’s body, and Jean could feel a tear rolling down his collarbone.

‘You can stay here,’ Jean whispered, rubbing this thumbs over the backs of Jeremy’s hands. ‘You don’t have to be alone.’

Jean knew, from his own experimentation with alcohol and drugs, that solitude was the wrong solution when you were coming down. And Jeremy was such a warm, social creature. Jean didn’t want him to go back to his own cold apartment and think about whatever had him so embarrassed and upset. He wanted to take care of him; let him sleep it off in peace and then make him some food and talk to him until he was smiling again. And then Madeleine would come home with her warmth and light to soothe his battered soul. Inside, Jean begged Jeremy to say yes.

But Jeremy was starting to pull away. Jean knew in his heart that Jeremy thought he was an inconvenience or some kind of interloper in their family, and not someone that Jean truly cared about. This didn’t surprise Jean as much as how hurt he was by it did.

‘I can’t,’ Jeremy said, stepping back and avoiding Jean’s gaze. His own eyes were red-rimmed. ’This was just a mistake. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise.’

‘It’s fine,’ Jean said faintly. ‘Please, don’t apologise.’

‘I’ll see you later,’ Jeremy added, opening the door just enough to get his body through before slipping out like a shadow. His name had been right on Jean’s lips, but it faded and died as Jeremy closed the door as quietly as possible behind him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we will be getting MUCH happier from here on out lads so stay tuned <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit did I add an extra chapter? Wouldn't be like me~
> 
> Saying goodbye to 2017 but not to this fic lmao lots more to come! Thanks for hanging on with me <333

The events of the previous evening aside, Jean thought he knew Jeremy pretty well by now. So he knew that Jeremy would go away and stress about being a bad influence and possibly die of embarrassment. If Jean hadn’t been so concerned about him then he would have marched right over to his apartment and talked him right out of feeling bad about what had happened. Drunken nights meant nothing. Jean had been blind drunk when he and Serena had gotten together. But Jean was sure that there was something else going on that Jeremy couldn’t or wouldn’t talk about.

To combat this embarrassment, and any doubts Jeremy may be having about where they now stood, Jean insisted on having him over for dinner. Jeremy had slunk round on Tuesday afternoon, ostensibly to remove Paul the spider and drop off a slice of strawberry cake for Madeleine. He’d then apologised repeatedly to Jean once Maddie was out of earshot.

‘Jeremy, you’re apologising for being human,’ Jean said, exasperated. ‘Look, if you really feel like you have to make amends, have dinner with us on Thursday. And you have to stay for a drink afterwards.’

Despite his misgivings, Jeremy smiled. ‘Does that mean we can sit on the couch, or do we have to take it out into the hallway?’ he asked lightly.

‘I think you’ve earned the couch,’ Jean agreed, playing along. ‘And I think I can persuade her to go to bed while you’re still here. That would have been unthinkable a few months ago.’

Jeremy smiled so genuinely that Jean’s heart fluttered. He still looked pale and tired, no doubt because he’d been working all night and had still managed to make it over to them by midday, but this sweet happiness transformed his face.

‘Does this mean we’re not having a hallway drink this week?’ Jeremy asked lightly, as though he wasn’t too concerned.

Jean eyed him shrewdly. ‘You mean, does this mean we’re not going to talk about this privately where you can’t use my daughter as a distraction tactic? No. Same time as usual?’

Jeremy couldn’t have been too thrilled about this, so Jean did his best to smile and not look threatening. It was a face he used on Madeleine when he explained why she couldn’t stay up to watch another episode of _Blue Planet,_ but she could watch it in the morning if she went to bed now.

‘I guess I owe you that,’ Jeremy said, looking pale but determined.

‘You don’t owe me anything,’ Jean reminded him gently. ‘You can say no.’

He waited patiently, praying hard that Jeremy wouldn’t say no.

‘Please?’ he added.

Jeremy blinked, and shook himself a little. ‘Yeah, ok,’ he said. ‘Will you provide your finest beverage?’

‘The cocoa with the fairy dust? Anything for you, Jeremy.’

He was only trying to be funny, but after he said it, Jean realised he meant it. Somehow Jeremy had reached Madeleine privileges without Jean noticing.

This more than anything seemed to seal the deal for Jeremy. When they met in the hallway the following evening he spent the first ten minutes praising the cocoa instead of apologising, which Jean counted as a win.

‘I can show you how to make it if you like?’ Jean offered. He only had a small cup himself - he found it a bit too chocolatey - and would much rather have had some of that sweet fruit crumble Jeremy had made a few weeks ago. Or something with lemon.

But Jeremy shook his head. ‘No, it would ruin the illusion,’ he said. ‘I have visions of you catching fairies at night from your kitchen window.’

‘Really?’ asked Jean, amused. Madeleine would love that scenario.

‘No, that’s just something I made up for Maddie,’ Jeremy admitted. ‘Diabetes is a real concern for me.' He sighed wistfully. ‘So, for my own good, the secret must remain yours.’

Jean grinned. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, feeling absurdly warm and happy at the idea of Jeremy telling Madeleine he worked with fairies in his downtime.

Recently, Jeremy had started to sit on Jean’s side of the hall, on the other side of the door, instead of opposite him. Tonight, however, he’d chosen the same side of the door, which meant their legs and shoulders were lined up side by side. Apart from when Jean tilted his head to listen for Maddie, they were sharing all the same space. It felt personal and a little bit thrilling.

‘How are you feeling today?’ he asked, voice low. Jeremy’s colour had improved, but what he’d been suffering the day before hadn’t been as simple as a hangover.

‘I’m fine,’ Jeremy said, smiling serenely at him. ‘Just some bad decisions made in a bad head space.’

Jean nodded, taking a sip of chocolate to think about his next move. ‘So what happened?’ he asked, brilliantly. He desperately didn’t want to sound like a bored housedad hungry for gossip, but he wanted to put to bed some uncertainties and fears about whatever had happened to Jeremy. If nothing else, it would help him sleep better at night.

Jeremy tapped on the side of his mug pensively. He was so small, despite the thick sweater he was wearing as per usual. It was skewed a little at the neck, exposing his pale collarbone. Jean shifted a little closer to him for support.

‘I guess I was feeling a bit low,’ he said slowly. ‘And I’d been thinking that maybe if I had someone then I wouldn’t feel so lonely.’ He smiled humorlessly. ‘But I was also drinking heavily, as per my terrible mood. So when I ended up with someone, I couldn’t control it. Or myself. It got a bit out of hand.’

A cold pit in the bottom of Jean’s stomach filled with concern.

‘Honestly, it wasn’t his fault,’ Jeremy said, staring off at the other wall. ‘He kept asking if I was ok, and I kept saying yes. I knew I wasn’t, but going home alone in a cab wasn’t part of the plan. After he … when he stopped, I got a bit sick, which was embarrassing. I kind of wanted to redeem myself, but he was gone when I came out. Probably tired of putting up with me. I’ve tried to apologise, but he won’t return my calls. Again, not a surprise.’

Jean hadn’t been there, but he couldn’t imagine not returning Jeremy’s calls for something as minor as drunken behaviour.

‘But I was sort of mad at him too,’ Jeremy remembered. ‘He said some things …’ He paused, trailing off with a little flush of his cheeks. ‘Anyways, I did some stupid things in response. And I … I think I took something. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I _knew_ it was a bad idea - but I wanted to feel different.’ He sighed, then toasted the opposite wall. ‘Mission accomplished, Jeremy,’ he said sarcastically, before taking a sad little sip, shoulders drooping.

Jean felt like this was the most he deserved to hear. Jeremy had obviously exhausted the story from his point of view, and it would be unfair to ask him to go into any more detail.

‘You know, I did shit like that all the time when I was younger,’ Jean said reasonably, trying to make him feel better. ‘I fucked up, drank too much, took shit I shouldn’t have. It happens.’

‘You were a teenager,’ Jeremy pointed out. ‘That’s when you’re _supposed_ to do that kind of thing. You’re meant to be able to handle stuff maturely as an adult. I guess I’m just not there yet.’

Jean shrugged. ’A stressor is a stressor,’ he said. ‘And who said I stopped at eighteen? I got drunk enough to forget I was gay, or did you forget I have a four year old in the other room?’

Jeremy’s lips twitched, and Jean pushed forward with that encouragement.

‘You might think you’re not in control, and that you’re messing things up,’ he said quietly. ‘But it always looks worse from the inside out. I know who you are, Jeremy, and you’re still someone I want around my daughter.’

He hesitated, wondering how far was too far.

‘And while we’re on the subject,’ he said quietly. ‘I feel like I have to tell you that you’re utterly wasted working at a nightclub, and the environment is contributing to your unhappiness. You’re not being challenged, so you’re bored. And then you’re being put in situations where everyone seems to be having a good time, and you feel pressured into acting the same. I know you think you owe your friends and the owners or whatever, but you’re completely unselfish and I think they’re taking advantage of your kindness. You don’t owe them your happiness or your future.’

Jeremy stared at him with a look of complete shock on his face, and Jean knew that he’d gone too far.

‘That’s it, that’s all I have to say,’ Jean muttered, burying his face in his mug even though the chocolate had gone cold.

Jeremy was quiet for a few moments while Jean sweated in silence beside him.

‘You know I can’t go back to school,’ Jeremy said eventually, his voice low. ‘You know I have to pay for my dad’s care.’

Jean had been prepared for Jeremy to think he was an asshole, but his disapproval was still very uncomfortable.

‘I know that,’ he said evenly. ‘I’m not gonna argue with you about money or how much this and that costs, but I think you’ve resigned yourself to working this kind of a life forever, and avoiding thinking about whatever hard choices you’d have to make in order to change that. I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life,’ he said quickly, knowing how preachy he was starting to sound. ‘But I really do care about you, Jeremy. I want you to be selfish.’

Jean knew he was due to shut up now, so he did his best to stay silent while Jeremy chewed that over. He also knew that Jeremy owed him a long rant, and resolved to take it with good grace however it came.

But when it did, there was none of the heat that Jean deserved.

‘What would you know about being selfish?’ Jeremy muttered quietly. ‘You spend every second of your day working your ass off for Madeleine. Your bag is full of her stuff - your whole life is arranged around her, and you never complain.’ Jeremy gave little huff of bitter amusement. ‘You won’t even come over to my apartment for a drink in case she wakes up needing you and you’re not there. I know people who fucking leave their kids through the night so that they can have some time off, and they’re good parents!’ He shook his head. ‘You don’t know how to be selfish. You couldn’t do it if you tried.’

Jean shifted, not sure about this rose-tinted image that Jeremy seemed to have of him. ‘That’s different,’ he said. ‘Love is different. I don’t make myself miserable- I’d be miserable if I didn’t do the most I could for her.’

‘But that’s my point,’ Jeremy exclaimed. ‘It’s just natural for you. And you - you didn’t even have to take her. You literally had an out. So don’t talk to me about being selfish, Jean. I’m not asking you to abandon her and come out with me, but don’t act like you would ever have fun if it meant not putting her first.’

True to his word, Jean stayed silent after this tirade, but it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart. The unfairness of this statement struck him so hard that he literally couldn’t speak.

‘What part of my unreliable, low-paying job is putting her first?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice level. ‘Or this shitty building, or the fact that I can’t even look after her on my own?’

Jeremy looked taken aback. ‘Jean, you try your best,’ he said, seriously. ‘I didn’t mean - ‘

‘They told me right from the beginning that I wouldn’t be able to do it,’ Jean said, unable to stop all his own stupid insecurities and worries from welling up in his chest and pouring out. ‘They didn’t want me to take her home. She could have gone to a big rich family in the suburbs and had a bike and a dog and a bunch of brothers and sisters. But I was so afraid of being alone, and so sure that I could prove them all wrong, that I ignored them all and assumed a couple of baby websites would make up for the nine months I spent pretending that she wasn’t on the way. She spent the first year of her life sleeping in a drawer. If it hadn’t been for a stupid lucky break I would have been out of money before she turned two, and I didn’t have a single person in my life who might have helped me. And even then,’ he continued, the old fury at himself rising up and colouring his voice. ‘Even then, I could have made the right decision. I could have gotten a job somewhere that actually paid a reliable, living wage. I could have done exactly what you’re doing, and gone to sleep knowing that I was on a roster and there was money due into my bank account on a regular basis.’

His words felt rehearsed; Jean had had this conversation with himself so many times that he didn’t even have to pause to think.

‘But I couldn’t give it up,’ he whispered, bitterly. ‘Didn’t want to. And there’s nothing glamorous about it - I wouldn’t have spiralled into depression or lost the will to live. I had Madeleine. I had everything I needed. But I refused to give it up.’

He had a lot more to give out about, but he had to stop there because there was a lump in his throat. Luckily he’d put his mug down on his other side, because his fists were clenching almost painfully.

‘I’m sorry,’ he forced out, eventually. What a terrible thing to take out on his vulnerable friend. ‘None of that is your problem.’

Jeremy hadn’t spoken in so long that were it not for the warm press of him against the left side of Jean’s body, he might have been alone in the hallway.

The silence stretched until Jean could bear it no longer. He was so afraid that in one foul swoop he’d made Jeremy feel worse about both himself and Jean, but he couldn’t find the words to make it better. Instead, he reached out and put his hand over Jeremy’s, which was lying limp in his lap.

‘Jeremy?’ he asked, voice barely a whisper. ‘I’m sorry.’

He really hadn’t meant to be an asshole and make it all about him. One little thing had set him off and suddenly he was biting Jeremy’s head off. Jean fully expected Jeremy to pull his hand back, but he had to try to fix things before they both went away and stewed.

So it was with a little jolt of his heart that he felt Jeremy’s fingers close around his hand and squeeze tightly. Jean finally summoned the courage to look at Jeremy’s face, and was appalled to see the same tear tracks glisten on his cheeks that had haunted him since the other morning. Jeremy had been upset to begin with, and then Jean had shouted all his own problems at him until he was completely overwhelmed. Jean’s heart clenched so painfully he almost lost his breath.

He didn’t know what to say to make it better - all he could do was act. Full of remorse, he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Jeremy’s shoulder, and then reached over to take hishand in both of his own.

‘It’s fine, I’m fine,’ Jeremy whispered, trying for casual as he swiped his free hand across his eyes quickly. ‘I’m just tired.’

Jean didn’t believe that for a second.

‘Jeremy,’ he murmured, trying to convey the depth of his sincerity in just his name alone. He kissed Jeremy’s shoulder, and then his head. It occurred to him that this may be a step too far, but the emotion was choking him and cutting off rational thought. His lips pressed against Jeremy’s softhair; he covered the spot where he’d kissed with his forehead so they could stay close. Jeremy’s body trembled.

‘I’m fine,’ he repeated, and he did sound more calm now. His free hand came up to cover Jean’s. ‘I’m fine.’

Jeremy tilted his head a little, trying to get a look at Jean. Their noses brushed together, and Jean’s shock at the sudden proximity almost made him pull back.

‘You really do care about me,’ Jeremy said. He sounded like this was only dawning on him now.

Jean felt himself smiling. ‘Yes, idiot,’ he replied, chafing his hands gently. ‘I didn’t meant to upset you. I just want to help.’

‘I know,’ Jeremy said. His eyelashes were still damp, and Jean felt his heart squeeze when he looked up at him with that calm, peaceful smile. ‘You were already helping, just by being here.’

They rested their foreheads together for a few moments, during which time Jean closed his eyes and inhaled his sweet, familiar scent and imagined what it might be like if Jeremy came back inside with him and stayed.

‘I should go,’ Jeremy said, a few minutes later. Jean’s hands reflexively tightened on him, and Jeremy laughed.

‘I’ve got a chance at a full night’s sleep,’ he explained, gently extricating himself. ‘Have to be on form for Miss Maddie tomorrow.’

‘Come over early,’ Jean said, with a wistful tug of his heart. ‘Stay late.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘Ok.’

Jean was so reluctant to pull away from him that he didn’t move right away. Amusement flashed across Jeremy’s face, a welcome change from the upset Jean had caused. He reached out and put his hand gently on Jean’s check.

‘I’m gonna be fine,’ he said. ‘Really. And I did hear you, Jean. I’ll think about it.’

Jean nodded, very ashamed of his behaviour. He hadn’t gotten so worked up in a long time, and it had left him flushed.

‘I’m sorry for what I said.’

Jeremy patted his cheek. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he admitted. ‘Can we put it behind us?’

Jean was more than willing to do that, so he nodded eagerly. It won him a smile from Jeremy.

‘Good,’ he said. He left his hand where it was for a second longer, and then it was gone, and they went about the business of gathering up their things. It gave Jean something to do with his hands that wasn’t reach out for Jeremy.

‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow?’ he asked hopefully, arms full of cushions and mugs.

Jeremy smiled fondly at him, and Jean nearly dropped everything.

‘Can’t keep me away now,’ he said, with a little shrug. ‘It’s a good thing you like me.’

 

*

 

That night, Jeremy slept for 12 straight hours. It made up for the fact that he hadn’t gotten more than 3 consecutive hours since Saturday, and he woke up feeling calm. Today was Thursday. He didn’t have to go to work, Madeleine had ballet class, and then they would all have dinner. Jeremy felt like he was about to go home after a long absence.

Henry had finally responded to his texts last night after he’d left Jean. Overall, Henry seemed confused and a little annoyed, but accepted Jeremy’s apology with only a little coaxing.

 

 **Henry:** Hope I didn’t say anything rude. Was pretty out of it too

 

Jeremy didn’t see a point in enlightening him. He’d only been repeating what he’d been told, after all.

 

 **Jeremy:** Bruised ego, nothing more

 

Work on Monday had been hideous. Jeremy was suffering the combined after effects of putting his body through the ringer with drink and drugs, and had felt every thud of the bass right down to his bone marrow. All of his coworkers appeared hostile, and he couldn’t muster so much as a smile for even the best tippers. It all just reminded him of what Henry had said. Did people really think he was easy? He just liked to have fun and help people enjoy themselves. He hadn’t been having much of that lately, but he didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he went home with whoever tipped the most. Alvarez had spent the night asking him what was wrong, eventually cornering him in the break room and heckling him until he cracked.

‘Fuck, I mean people just talk shit,’ Alvarez said, looking agitated. ‘People say shit, you know? I’ve never heard anything like that. You’re just friendly. Don’t let it get you down.’

Jeremy had tried that approach and failed miserably at it. Nothing looked good on Monday, and he couldn’t even go to Jean because he was so mortally embarrassed that he might keel over and die. He managed a few hours sleep on Tuesday morning, but only really conked out after his argument and therapeutic resolution with Jean on Wednesday night. Something about the way Jean had touched him and kissed his head reached deep into Jeremy’s heart and reignited something. He remembered what Jean had said about Madeleine helping him to deal with the scars from his past, and wondered if Jean could help him do the same with his present.

On Thursday morning, he rolled up his sleeves, cleaned his apartment, threw open the windows, and started on dessert. He’d been thinking about it all night at work, and went to the store with about 50 ideas in his head. Most of the more elaborate dishes he wanted to make tended to be gigantic, and although he’d love to cover a table in cakes for the Moreau’s, he knew that Jean didn’t eat sweets normally and Madeleine had a tiny stomach that Jean worked very hard to keep healthy.

So, he discarded the lemon blueberry layer cake and the baked lemon blueberry donuts (although he was considering making those for a lunchtime treat one day) and instead picked up a bunch of berries, cream cheese, jam, lemons, sandwich cookies, and three sturdy mason jars. And with a spark of inspiration, he also grabbed three ceramic yellow spoons with flowers on the handles.

Once home, he noticed a text and photo message from Jean.

 

 **Jean:** We love Thursdays! (Just reminded her you’re coming over) x

 

The photo was an actual selfie of the two of them, although it featured only half of Jean’s face. He had Madeleine on his shoulders, one hand holding her leg and the other the phone. Madeleine had the biggest laughing grin on her face and her fists were in the air; under her yellow anorak she was dressed for ballet. Jeremy went weak at the knees and clutched his heart.

There was also the matter of the kiss at the end of the message. Jeremy wasn’t one to overanalyse texts, but Jean definitely wasn’t a casual _xoxo_ kind of person. There’d never been an _x_ before, and now here it was, bold as brass. Jeremy felt a flush of excitement as he reread the message and saved the photo, and then threw himself into the dessert-making with gusto. When he’d finished, he had three beautiful little lemon berry cheesecakes in the mason jars. He had a covered dish of whipped cream and more fresh berries to add just before they ate them, and the lemon cream was so good he’d had about five spoonfuls of it already. He kept checking the time, wondering when was appropriate to go over. Jean had said to come early, but he didn’t want to interrupt pre-dinner proceedings. Madeleine would be home from ballet by now, but maybe she was in the bath. Maybe Jean was trying to get some work done. Maybe maybe maybe. He got out of the shower and found another text.

 

 **Jean:** Remember when I said come over early? Meant it.

 

Jeremy had to admit, Jean’s enthusiasm sure was encouraging.

He capped the jars and tucked them into one of his worn little wicker picnic basket (he had several, of varying sizes) along with the cream and berries, and covered everything with a checkered cloth. Then he put on his favourite shirt and hustled down the hall.

To his delight, the basket was small enough to fit into Jean’s fridge, once they’d stacked the milk and juice. Madeleine was desperate to know what was inside, but Jeremy only winked and whispered "Lemon" to her.

‘Can I help with dinner?’ he asked Jean hopefully.

‘You can,’ Jean said, with a little smile. He was wearing a deep blue shirt that made his grey eyes even more beautiful. ‘How are your chopping skills?’

Jeremy rolled up his sleeves with a neat flourish. ‘Just pass me the knife.’

Between the two of them they got a whole mess of vegetables chopped and prepared. Madeleine asked to be the one to add them to the pan, and then had great fun sprinkling the salt and pepper. Jeremy had gone teary from chopping the onions - Jean was miraculously unaffected - so he dabbed at his eyes while Jean supervised the stirring.

‘Where they going next, Papa?’ she asked, standing on tiptoe on her little kitchen step - a small, pale green plastic step that Jean shuffled around the house for her.

‘Into the pasta,’ he told her. ‘And then into the oven to bake. I’ll do the rest from here, sweetheart.’

Madeleine accepted this with good grace, and Jeremy whisked her aside to wash her hands.

‘Don’t wanna get garlic or onion in your eyes,’ he told her.

‘Is that why you’re crying?’ she asked curiously, looking up at him.

‘Onions produce a chemical when you cut them,’ Jeremy explained. ’It makes your eyes sting and produce tears.’

‘So you’re not sad?’

Jeremy smiled down at her. ‘No, kitten, I’m not sad. How could I be sad when I’m hanging out with you and your papa?’

This seemed to please Madeleine no end.

‘Sweetheart, will you get dressed for dinner now please?’ Jean asked, keeping things cooking. ‘Maybe if you ask him nicely, Jeremy will help you.’

Madeleine, still in her ballet costume, looked up at Jeremy eagerly. ‘Will you help me?’ she asked, reaching out a hand to him.

‘Of course,’ Jeremy said. ‘Are we wearing anything in particular?’ he added to Jean.

Jean just shrugged and gave him a little smile. ‘It’s a Thursday. She gets to decide.’

So Jeremy followed Madeleine into her little bedroom, which was snug and cosy and full of little trinkets and toys. Jean had put up a small shelf beside the window, upon which Madeleine kept what looked like various souvenirs from their walks. Jeremy also spotted the little flower he’d given her after her first ballet class; it was in a narrow pink jar on her bedside locker.

‘Ok, Madeleine,’ he said, hands on his hips. ‘What are we wearing?’

Madeleine was already stripping off all her ballet gear and laying it across her bed. Jeremy followed along behind her, picking it all up. He wasn’t sure if Jean washed these after every use, but there was no harm in folding them.

When he turned around, Madeleine was already confidently holding several pieces of clothing.

‘Alright,’ Jeremy said. ‘Looks like we have some choices.’

This looked like it was going to be a process, so Jeremy got Madeleine to put on her _tiny_ fluffy robe so that she didn’t freeze in her vest and underpants. It was very difficult not to pick her up and hug her forever, but Jeremy knew that Madeleine had great dignity and wouldn’t appreciate it.

‘What do you think?’ Jeremy asked her.

Madeleine considered the selection. ‘This,’ she said, holding up an orange cardigan.

Jeremy looked at it with interest. ‘Great! What else?’

Madeleine held the cardigan in her hands. ‘What else,’ she agreed. Jeremy smiled, and put a hand on her head.

‘Well, lets see …’

Between the two of them they selected a little blue pinafore, similar in colour to Jean’s shirt, to go under the orange cardigan, along with a pair of cream tights. Madeleine insisted on dressing herself, so Jeremy took a little turn about the room while he waited. There was a Tigger plushie lying on the floor, half under the bed; Jeremy bent down and picked him up, then snorted with laughter when he saw the Tigger was wearing a pink tutu skirt. He placed him safely on Madeleine’s pillow.

He was just about to offer his help when he spotted something on the dresser. It was a small painting in a pale wooden frame. Jeremy stepped closer, reaching out for it. With a jolt, he saw that it was a painting of a tiny baby - of Madeleine. It was a beautiful swirl of colour and Jeremy didn’t understand how it made a baby but it did. Jean was a genius.

‘That’s me,’ Madeleine informed him, pulling up her tights.

‘I thought so,’ said Jeremy. ‘It’s a very good likeness.’

Jean had told him he hadn’t kept any of his painting supplies around after Madeleine was born. Jeremy wondered when he’d painted this.

He knelt in front of Madeleine to help her put on her shoes. She put a hand on his shoulder and lifted her feet obediently, then after a quick stroll around the room she decided to wear her slippers instead. In the search for those, Jeremy discovered a book under Madeleine’s bed. It was a large picture book in attractive boards, and Jeremy was surprised to see that he vaguely recognised it.

‘Madeleine, did your papa write this book?’ he asked suddenly, sitting back on his heels. Madeleine, engaged in the activity of pulling on her fluffy unicorn slippers, nodded.

‘He drew it,’ she said. ‘It’s his book.’

The publication page told him it was a book by Jean Moreau. A line underneath added ‘Words by Amy Redding.’

Amy Redding, if Jeremy remembered correctly, was the woman whose books Jean illustrated. It certainly looked like this was more Jean’s than hers. Fascinated, Jeremy flipped through it quickly, then slowly.

‘Can I see?’ Madeleine asked. She hooked her chin over Jeremy’s shoulder and reached out to turn the pages back to the beginning. Jeremy sat down properly, then reached around and scooped her into his lap.

‘Will you turn the pages?’ he asked her.

Together, they read the story. There wasn’t much in the way of actual words, but they were in a pleasant rhyming pattern that was enjoyable to say aloud, and Madeleine seemed to know them all already. What Jeremy was far more interested in was the artwork.

It was simply gorgeous. The book told a story of stars falling into children’s back gardens or outside their houses, all over the world. Jeremy’s eyes went wide as he took in the stars raining down from the sky, bouncing down steps and getting stuck in trees. The children went and found them in the middle of the night, and the reader learned about different cultures and parts of the world. A little girl in Australia found a star buried in the sand outside her house, and a little boy in Ireland had to tug one out of a sheep’s mouth. A pair of twins in snowy surroundings wrapped their star in a blanket and launched it back into the sky from atop an evergreen tree, and on the opposite page a tiny girl walking in the desert with her three even tinier brothers and sisters, carrying the star on her head. And around the pictures, Amy’s words wove the story. The children worked together to get their stars back up into the sky, and the last page was a complete night sky full of twinkling stars, and all the children looking up at them.

Madeleine pointed out her favourite drawings and sang along to some of the words. Jeremy traced the smooth lines and colours, and discovered with delight that the stars were covered in gritty silver sparkles. A few of the stars had been worn smooth, and now he saw why; Madeleine scratched a finger over the star, gathering up a fine layer of glitter.

‘Here,’ she said helpfully, rubbing Jeremy’s nose with it. ‘That’s what Papa says you have to do.’

Jean, attracted by the laughter, poked his head around the door.

‘Are you scratching up those stars again, Madeleine?’ he asked, with a rueful smile.

‘No,’ Madeleine said guiltily, hiding her glittery finger.

‘It was all me,’ Jeremy insisted, with a wink in Maddie’s direction. ‘I led her astray.’

‘A likely story,’ Jean said. He reached down for Madeleine, who wrapped her arms around Jean’s forearm and allowed herself to be swung up on to his shoulder like a monkey. Jean did it with an ease that implied she weighed about as much as a sack of feathers. Jeremy scrambled up to follow them, but first he took out his phone and snapped a few photos of his favourite pages. He also got one of the front cover. The book was called _Starlight;_ the dedication on the front was _For Madeleine_. With great care, Jeremy propped the book up beside Madeleine’s bed; maybe she’d see it later and ask Jean to read it to her.

The apartment was filled with the delicious aroma of dinner. Madeleine set the table in her own special way - fork and spoon on either side of the placemat, with the knife at the top because she personally didn’t use one. Jean pressed a glass of wine into Jeremy’s hand and told him to sit down, but Jeremy only relieved himself of the glass before he was back to help serve. He didn’t want to feel like a guest here anymore.

Moving around Jean in the kitchen felt natural and good. Jeremy kept having to restrain himself from doing little things like touch his waist as he passed behind him, or call him a term of endearment that might better have been used on Madeleine. It just felt right. It had clicked for him. Jeremy pushed in Madeleine’s chair and darted back into the kitchen to grab a knife that she’d left out. He knew the way like it was his own home.

Dinner was the most wholesome thing he’d had since - well, the last time he was here. Jean rarely made anything fancy or expensive, but Jeremy never ate better than he did with the Moreau’s. They’d probably chopped 20 vegetables between the two of them. Jeremy had a suspicion that Jean was mortally afraid of Madeleine not growing up to be at 100% health, and was combating this by feeding her as much greenery as he could. It wasn’t a bad plan, though Jeremy did notice her pulling faces after several mouthfuls.

‘Is that a piece of broccoli I see under your napkin, Madeleine?’ Jean asked with casual interest.

‘No.’

‘Hmm, are you sure?’

‘I ate five pieces!’

Jean pinned her with a shrewd stare that she matched with great courage. Jeremy could hardly contain his smile.

‘Will you eat just one more piece?’ Jean asked finally, with the tone of a man conceding a great battle to a worthy opponent.

To Jeremy’s surprise, Madeleine threw a sideways glance at him. Jeremy recovered quick enough to give her a subtle nod of approval.

‘Kay,’ she agreed, stabbing at a piece of greenery with her fork and shoving it whole into her mouth.

‘Chew it carefully!’ Jean reminded her urgently. ‘I’m not doing the Heimlich on you again because you want to get rid of your vegetables as quickly as possible.’

‘Again?’ Jeremy asked.

’It was a fake out,’ Jean said, with a dry look at his daughter. ‘She thought a choking incident would exempt her from all future vegetables. Instead, Papa lost five years off his life and Madeleine will be eating broccoli with every meal until she’s eighteen.’

Jeremy’s eyes wandered around the room, enjoying the small family details. Jean’s winter boots were lined up beside Madeleine’s beside the front door, and his long green scarf hung beside her much shorter pink one. There was a framed photo of the two of them beside the TV, and a small pile of folded laundry sat on the arm of the couch - a tiny pair of white socks were nestled on top of a dark pair that could have fit at least four of the smaller inside. Everywhere he looked, Jeremy saw signs of their sweet, orderly lives moving in perfect tandem.

And as far as he could see, there was no real place for him to slot in to all this. Except, of course, as a dinner guest once a week. Jeremy would just have to accept the happiness that brought him as enough.

He couldn’t help but notice the wrapped canvas boards leaning up against the wall in the living room. They were entirely out of space as it was; Jean had had to move part of the armchair to fit them in. At first Jeremy thought they were new blank canvas that he was moving down to his studio, but the sheets that wrapped them were paint spattered and old. There was also a distinct smell of paint in that corner of the apartment, which Jeremy knew Jean did not normally allow. He wanted to ask him, but first it was time for dessert.

‘I wonder if anyone would like to help me with the final touches?’ Jeremy asked Jean as they cleared the plates into the kitchen. Madeleine’s eyes lit up and her hand shot into the air, but they both pretended not to see her.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ Jean said doubtfully. ‘I have all this washing up to do. I don’t think I’ll be able to help much.’

‘Hmm,’ Jeremy said. ‘I don’t know if I can do it all by myself.’

‘Maybe you’ll just have to help me wash up, and then we can do it afterwards. It will take a long time, though. It might almost be too late for dessert by then.’

‘Well, if that’s the only solution - ‘

‘I can do it, I CAN DO IT.’ Madeleine was hopping up and down and waving her hand in the air.

Jeremy was too delighted by her reaction to fake amazement, but Jean had it covered.

‘Wait, you?’ he said, frowning at her. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes!’ Madeleine’s innocence was almost too much to bear. Jeremy had to hide his face in the fridge while Jean said things like, ‘Oh, of course!’ and ‘Why didn’t we think of that?’

Once he’d composed himself, Jeremy picked Madeleine up and snuck some soft cheek kisses under the guise of whispering to her what they had to do. Maddie, snuggly as a little teddy bear in her woolly cardigan, listened eagerly and then shooed Jean over to the sink so he couldn’t see. Jeremy fetched her little kitchen step and together they washed the berries and then spooned cream into the mason jars. Maddie selected only the nicest blueberries and raspberries to perch on top, though she did insist on sticking her finger right into the cream to get them well in there.

‘So there’s more,’ she explained, licking her finger.

‘Madeleine, are you manhandling the dessert?’ Jean asked from his station at the sink.

‘Whassat mean?’ Maddie asked Jeremy quickly, looking suspiciously at Jean in case she was being teased.

‘It’s a cooking term,’ Jeremy told her. ‘Come on, can you get the spoons out of the basket for me, please?’

Madeleine was in charge of dragging Jean to the table and making sure he was seated before dessert could be revealed. Jeremy was glad he’d made them look so nice and added the spoons, because Maddie sure was talking it up. He was also sure he saw a look of relief on Jean’s face when the little jars were unveiled, like he’d been wondering how on earth he was going to get rid of yet another cake.

‘Single serving,’ he added, with a wink and a smile. Jean fumbled his spoon in response.

To Jeremy’s surprise, there were three clean mason jars at the end of things. He’d been sure he’d be too full, and Madeleine rarely finished anything put in front of her, but Jean was the real surprise. He practically licked the spoon.

‘That was very good,’ he said approvingly, which was about as enthusiastic as Jean got about anything. ‘Really very good, thank you. Maddie?’

‘Thank you!’ she cheered, scraping her finger around inside the jar for anything she might have missed.

‘You hit on all of her favourite things,’ Jean added to Jeremy. ‘Fruit, cream, and an unusual serving method.’

‘I do know her ways,’ Jeremy told him, smiling. They were sitting opposite her, and leaning towards each other almost unconsciously so they could talk quietly amongst themselves.

‘Did you like the lemon?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Yes,’ Jean said, with a knowing smile. ‘However did you know it was my favourite?’

Jeremy tapped his nose. ‘I have my sources.’ He examined his finger with surprise. ‘Oh, I’m still glittery.’

‘Yes, it suits you,’ Jean said with a grin.

‘I love that book, by the way,’ Jeremy said suddenly. ‘It’s beautiful. When did you get the time to do all of that?’

Jean shrugged, leaning back in his chair. ’Her first year,’ he said, nodding at Maddie. ‘I just kept telling her the same story, and my hands carried on telling it after she fell asleep. It was pure luck that Amy found us when she did. Started the college fund.’

Jeremy followed his gaze to Madeleine, and knew for sure that not a single cent of that book money had been spent on Jean himself.

‘Hey, what’s with all the canvas hanging out in your living room?’ he asked. ‘Are they new?’

Jean’s expression fell slightly. ‘Ah, no. They’re not recent. The gallery they usually hang in is reshuffling.’ He shrugged, but kept his eyes wandering away from Jeremy. ‘I’ve got to store them somewhere else for a while.’

Jeremy’s spirits sank. He had only seen one of Jean’s painted creations - the one in Madeleine’s room - but if his illustrations were anything to go by then they certainly didn’t deserve to be hidden under sheets.

As Jean got Madeleine ready for bed, a plan began to form in Jeremy’s mind. He sent a quick text to Dan, asking her if she and Matt could meet him tomorrow in Brooklyn. Once she’d replied in the affirmative he relaxed, and happily joined in the bedtime preparations.

Madeleine definitely wasn’t moving as fast as she would have if there hadn’t been a guest there to perform for, but Jean didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he moved slowly around the apartment, picking things up and tidying them away at his leisure, even making some coffee and bringing Jeremy in a cup as he perched on the edge of the tub while Madeleine brushed her teeth with one hand and attempted to tell him a very imaginative story with the other.

‘Thank you,’ Jeremy said, accepting the cup gratefully. ‘You sure you don’t want to stay for the story? It’s getting good.’

‘I’ve heard this one before,’ Jean. He did pause for a moment to smile at his daughter. Jeremy felt his hand rest briefly on his shoulder.

After the bathroom portion of the routine was finished, there followed pyjamas and story time. Madeleine did a lot of bouncing on the couch while Jean got her pyjamas ready (they were in the pile of folded laundry), and Jeremy had to coax her down.

‘Are you being Tigger?’ he asked, amused.

‘Yes, that’s why Papa put the tutu on him,’ she explained, still bouncing.

‘Oh, so that’s who’s responsible,’ Jeremy said, with a sly look at Jean.

‘It’s just some chiffon,’ Jean said unashamedly. ‘I’m a man of many talents.’ He stepped up beside Jeremy, pyjamas in hand. ‘Ok Tigger, it’s time.’

Jean wrestled Madeleine from dinner clothes to sleep clothes at the speed of light, then let her dangle off his bicep on the way to her room.

‘I can do pull ups!’ she said, kicking her legs. ‘Look, Jeremy!’

‘Wow, you’re so strong,’ Jeremy said admiringly. He might also have been checking out the rather impressive bicep she was hanging from, but no one could tell.

Jeremy thought maybe he should leave the two of them to enjoy the bedtime story together, but Madeleine immediately called for him from the other room.

‘I believe your services are required,’ Jean said, moseying back out into the living room. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not at all,’ Jeremy said eagerly. In his excitement, he reached out and caught Jean’s hand. ‘You gonna come too?’

Jean stopped dead when Jeremy took his hand. He’d been going the other way, and now he stopped with his body twisted around towards him. Jeremy thought about letting go but then decided, screw it, and hung on.

Jean stared at him with those beautiful grey eyes as though he was trying to figure out if Jeremy was serious or not.

‘I don’t think we’ll fit on the bed,’ he said slowly. Jeremy could hear in his voice that he was teasing.

‘I’m sure we can all squeeze in,’ Jeremy said with a smile. Turning his hand, he linked his fingers with Jean, desperate for some kind of signal that he was doing the right thing.

Jean took another moment to think about this. Then he pulled on Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy’s feet obeyed, and he let himself be pulled right up against Jean. His heart thumped hard in his chest as Jean looked down at him.

‘That might be nice,’ Jean admitted quietly. He brushed his thumb over Jeremy’s hand; their eyes met when Jeremy shivered in response to his touch.

‘Jeremy? Will you read me a story now please?’

Madeleine was calling him. Jean let his thumb brush across Jeremy’s skin one more time and then let go of his hand.

‘Go on, then,’ Jean said softly, with a little smile. He nodded him towards Maddie’s room. ‘I’m right behind you.’

Maddie didn’t even blink when they both arrived in together. ‘Papa’s gonna stay for the story too,’ Jeremy explained, running a hand over her soft head. It didn’t make a difference to her. She was searching through her little shelf in the corner for a story to read. There was a stack of books on her dresser but she was ignoring them in favour of items that didn’t really look like books at all.

‘Madeleine, sweetheart.’ Jean was watching her progress. ‘Have you picked out a story?’

‘Trying to find my one,’ Madeleine said, still searching.

‘She’s looking for _Starlight_ ,’ Jean murmured, glancing around.

Jeremy pointed to where he’d left it. ‘It’s there,’ he said softly. ‘Maddie, we already read that one today.’

Madeleine seized the book and considered Jeremy’s words. ‘Papa can read it,’ she decided. ‘ _En fran_ _ç_ _ais_.’ 

Jeremy beamed, and Jean chuckled.

‘Alright,’ he said easily. ‘It’s been a while since we’ve done that. Come on, up you get.’

He swept Madeleine up in his arms, book and all, and sat down on he inside of the bed, against the wall. With a quick look at Jeremy, he jerked his head. ‘You’re invited too,’ he reminded him.

So Jeremy sat on the bed beside them, propped up against the headboard. Maddie started out on Jean’s lap, but quickly wriggled her way over to Jeremy’s. Despite her recent capering she was clearly getting tired, because she snuggled right down against his chest and let him cuddle her. Jeremy stroked her hair and waited for Jean to begin.

‘I haven’t read this in so long,’ Jean murmured. He smoothed his hand over the front cover. ‘In any language.’

‘How many do you speak?’ Jeremy asked with interest.

‘Four,’ Jean replied. ‘In the beginning, this was in French.’ He sighed, crossing his ankles and getting comfortable. ‘Ok, lets see what I can remember.’

As he began, Jeremy had to shift position so that he could see the pictures. Jean’s soft voice wrapped around the unfamiliar syllables and cast a spell on the room that made the story come alive around them, and Jeremy simply had to see the art again. Jean read slowly, and Jeremy realised after a page or so that he was trying to keep the rhyming scheme as best he could. Sometimes Madeleine repeated a word quietly to herself, like a little echo. Jeremy couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe.

Madeleine eventually started to nod off in Jeremy’s arms. He caught Jean’s eye and saw surprise flit across his face, followed by tenderness. He gave Jeremy a little smile before continuing on to finish the story. Jeremy found his little pauses incredibly sweet, and loved watching his expression as he wrangled a way to make the story sound the same in French as it did in English.

He reached the end of the story and closed the book quietly. Maddie was breathing softly against Jeremy’s chest, and he was loathe to let her go. Indeed, Jean spent about a minute just watching them. Jeremy, feeling incredibly peaceful, was happy to let him.

'Can I keep her?' he murmured, dropping a gentle kiss on her head.

Jean made a tiny noise of amusement. 'Can we keep _you_?' he returned, leaning his head against the wall with a sigh.

Jeremy looked up with a flicker of surprise. To him, that had never been in doubt. Surely he’d made that clear by now?

Before he could say anything in return, Jean started to get up off the bed. Jeremy reminded himself guiltily that Madeleine couldn’t be fully asleep yet, and that this wasn’t the time or place for an adult conversation.

Jeremy gently moved Madeleine off him as Jean lifted up the blankets so that he could slot her in underneath them. Jeremy moved back so Jean could kiss her goodnight. When he saw Jean lingering beside her, he quickly retreated to the living room. As father-daughter relationships went, Jean and Madeleine were closer than most. Jean had probably missed her this evening, glued as she had been to Jeremy. With only his own poor relationship with his father to go on, Jeremy supposed he could be forgiven for not realising this sooner. He’d always tried his best with his dad, but he’d never been that interested in hanging out with his kids. For a long time, Jeremy had just assumed that was how men were with their children.

Jeremy tidied up a bit while he waited, and then refilled their wine glasses. Jean emerged just once to get Maddie’s cup of water.

‘No sippy cup?’ he queried, as Jean came back with one of her regular plastic cups.

‘No,’ Jean said, with a little smile. ‘I discovered that the sippy cup allowed her to drink while lying down, which is a great way to keep water from spilling but also a great way for her to choke on it. Now she’s gotta either sit up or get drenched.’

Jeremy laughed quietly, and then shut up very fast when Jean touched his lower back as he passed. It was a casual touch, like that kind of intimacy was normal for them. It should have been - Jeremy desperately wanted it to be.

As he sat on the couch, in 'his' spot, Jeremy was consumed with thoughts of this being his life. This partnership. His cheeks were still flushed with pleasure from the evening, and now there was more to come. Suddenly the thoughts he usually reserved for private moments come flooding to the front of his mind. What if, when Jean sat down beside him, Jeremy just leaned in and kissed him? But, he thought doubtfully, maybe Jean was just enjoying the friendship and domesticity, but didn’t feel any attraction. He was a very tactile person, despite his quiet nature. He was naturally loving. Jeremy didn’t doubt that Jean felt affection for him - he may have low self-esteem, but he wasn’t blind - but that didn’t mean Jean wanted to kiss him back.

And would Jeremy be crazy to try and push it? Right now, Jean had absolutely no problem having Jeremy as a strange third wheel in his little family. And clearly this was working very well for Madeleine. But romantic feelings would complicate things. People didn’t always work together in practice like they did on paper. Jean always put Madeleine first - he’d probably considered all of this already, and made his own decisions. Jeremy was likely two steps behind him.

Disheartened, Jeremy probably had quite a morose expression on his face when Jean re-emerged.

'She got her second wind after you left,' he remarked. 'I had to talk her down.' He sat down next to Jeremy and accepted his wine glass thankfully. 'I explained that there were some things that you and I have to talk about that she’d only find very boring.'

He winked slyly at Jeremy as he took a sip from his wine. Ok, maybe not so disheartening after all.

Their bodies were turned towards each other. Jean had one arm draped over the back of the couch, and Jeremy enjoyed the fact that it was practically around his shoulders. He pulled one leg up underneath himself and cradled his wine glass in one hand. He left the other free, just in case Jean wanted to take it.

'Ballet going well?' he asked, unable to switch topic so soon.

Jean nodded. 'Yes, I can almost do a full plié now,' he said, making Jeremy laugh.

'Don’t tell me you still lurk around outside the doors,' he said.

'No, Allison only let me do that once,' Jean admitted. 'She said I have to start loosening the apron strings before kindergarten or I’ll go crazy. We go for coffee, usually. I think she’s into the teacher.'

Jeremy smiled. 'Oh really?' He was enjoying the intimacy of being taken into Jean’s confidence.

Jean nodded. 'Well, she hasn’t actually said anything,' he allowed. But every time I start talking about Renee she gets quite flustered and says odd things like ‘yes she’s very graceful’ in response to my comment about her being a good teacher.'

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. 'Sounds like your classic crush,' he said. 'I can’t wait to see this teacher. Madeleine talks about her like she’s Alanis-Morissette-as God.'

'Might be a bit of a crush there too,' Jean admitted. 'The children love her. She’s one of those calm, quiet presences. You’ll get to see her at the end of term recital.'

Jeremy perked up. This was the first he’d heard of any recital.

'I don’t have a date yet,' Jean said with that flickering smile at Jeremy’s expression. 'It’ll be late May or early June. I can’t promise it’ll be the most entertaining event you’ve ever been to, but - '

'Jean, I’d _love_ to go,' Jeremy said earnestly, putting a hand on his knee. 'Nothing could keep me away.'

A smile crept slowly across Jean’s face, and it was his true smile. His Madeleine smile. He cleared his throat, colour blooming delicately up high on his cheeks. He looked very pleased, so Jeremy left his hand right where it was.

They talked about other things for a while. Jean confessed he wasn’t hopeful about moving any of the paintings he’d had to remove from the gallery. Jeremy listened with concern as he admitted that he might just have to stick to illustrating for a while.

'I’ve had a few other offers from writers signed to the same publisher as Amy,' he said. 'There are a lot of strings attached to what I can and can’t draw now - or at least, what drawings I can get paid for - but it wouldn’t be hard to switch things up for someone else. Maybe when Maddie starts school.'

Jeremy didn’t like the sound of Jean giving up on what he truly loved. 'But you’d still go to the studio, right?' he questioned.

Jean shrugged. 'Yeah,' he allowed. 'But I don’t know how many more canvas boards I can afford to store there. I’ve started a whole new series - something I just can’t get out of my head - but I might just have to start putting it on paper instead.'

Jean wasn’t prone to self-pity, but he did look quite low at the prospect of scaling back his ambitions.

'Have you thought about an exhibition?' Jeremy asked. As soon as he said it he cringed - anything he could offer as a solution was surely something Jean had already thought of.

But, patience as ever, Jean responded, 'Yeah, that’s really what I should do. But the gallery where I’d normally exhibit is booked up for the rest of the year, and venue space is really expensive otherwise. Without a guarantee of actually selling anything, I’d make a huge loss.' He shrugged. 'It’s fine. I’ll readjust some things. I’m not going to retire just yet,' he finished, with a little smile.

Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. 'Are those all of the ones from the gallery?' he asked.

Jean followed his gaze. 'No,' he said. 'Most of them, though. I still have about 5 hanging in Rialto until the end of the month. They're part of a series, so the curator is letting me give them a little longer.'

Jeremy’s plan was whirring away in the background. 'Good,' he said. 'That’s good. Hey, can I - '

He gestured towards the paintings. Jean shrugged. 'If you like,' he said, as though Jeremy had asked if he could have some more wine. But there was a glimmer of interest in his eyes as Jeremy got up and started rifling through the paintings.

It was quite something to see a whole bunch of very professional paintings right in front of him. They weren’t behind glass, and he could see all the lumps and swirls of the paint. He could even make out the individual brush strokes. There was something very personal about being this close to his work, and being able to physically see his labour and love.

'These are beautiful,' Jeremy murmured, spellbound by the design and colour. Several were cityscapes, or appeared to be. Jeremy realised that Jean had isolated tiny features of the city and blown them up to a far greater size. In one, a child stood amongst miniature buildings holding an ice cream. In another, swirling graffiti poured out of a drainpipe and painted flowers over a cobblestone street. The images were sometimes only suggestions; Jeremy couldn’t understand how he was able to smear a mess of paint all over the canvas and somehow it still managed to look like an incredibly clear image.

'Kind of getting blown away here,' he admitted. He was kneeling on the floor and passing each painting to Jean after he’d examined it. Jean, sitting cross-legged beside the couch, was covering them back up one by one. 'Like, these are unbelievable. Sorry if I’m babbling but oh my god.'

'The praise is nice, I will admit,' he said. 'It’s been a while since someone has described my work as anything other than ‘kinda weird and confusing’.'

'Who called it that?' Jeremy demanded, outraged.

'Oh, my biggest critic.'

'Who?'

Jean gave him an amused look. 'Who do you think, Jeremy?'

Jeremy blinked, then snorted with laughter. They giggled companionably together as Jean quietly rattled off Madeleine’s various quips and quotes on his artwork, which included "Wavey", "Messy", "Scary", and "A little bit too much".

'Which one was scary?' Jeremy was laughing delightedly, in part at the deadpan way Jean told stories about Madeleine.

'The one with the crow,' he said, pointing at the beautiful lavender crow taking flight. It was one of the only paintings behind glass, so Jeremy had handled it with special care.

'But that's one of the best ones,' he protested. 'She’s so uncultured. What are you teaching her, Jean?'

'Hey, she didn’t say it wasn’t nice,' Jean argued. 'She said it was scary.'

'She also said Paul and George were scary,' Jeremy countered.

'Paul and - are you talking about the spiders?' Jean looked greatly entertained by the reference. 'Ok, yes, she has no idea what she’s talking about. Everyone’s a critic.'

They were getting raucous; Jeremy glanced towards Madeleine’s room. 'Won’t we wake her?' he asked. 'Should we go out into the hallway?'

But Jean shook his head. 'Nah,' he replied. 'She’s used to your voice by now.' When Jeremy shot him a curious look he ducked his head bashfully and added, 'I just liked our hallway dates.'

Jeremy should have made a comment about where any future dates might take place. It was a perfect opener - he’d be a fool not to take it.

But his courage failed him. That, and his lingering fear of ruining their friendship with his unwanted advances. He remembered what Henry said about Jeremy having a reputation for going home with anyone who smiled at him enough; was it possible that Jeremy was just used to offering physical affection for kindness?

That thought derailed him, and the moment passed. He gently laid the rest of the now wrapped canvas boards back against the wall, and let Jean pull him to his feet. When Jean offered him another glass of wine he accepted automatically, before becoming conscious of how over-indulging on alcohol might look to Jean, given recent events.

'Actually, maybe not,' he said hastily, as Jean picked up the bottle. He raised an eyebrow curiously at him.

'Just - after the other night, maybe I shouldn’t,' Jeremy clarified, with a hot rush of shame. He knew that his drinking was symptomatic of whatever was going on inside him, but it would surely look irresponsible from Jean’s perspective.

But, once again, Jean surprised him.

'Remember what I said the other night?' He set the bottle down on the coffee table and lowered himself on to the couch. Jeremy, unable to wallow in shame if it meant staying away from him, also took his seat again.

'Which part?' he quipped. 'There was a lot said.'

Jean poked his leg. 'The bit about how I know you better than this? Just because you had a bad night doesn’t mean you’re going to skull the bottle and start dancing on tables. You don’t have a problem with alcohol - you just have ...'

'Problems,' Jeremy agreed. It wasn’t a great concept, but he had to admit that he appreciated not having to explain himself to Jean. 'Thank you for understanding that. I just ... didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.'

Jean smiled at him. 'Like I said,' he reminded him gently. 'I know you.'

Being known by Jean felt very good.

They were facing each other on the couch, Jeremy with one leg drawn up underneath him again. Jean smelled amazing; he didn’t wear cologne on a normal day, but there was something about his undefinable natural scent that Jeremy found incredibly alluring. His scientific mind told him it was just chemicals in his body reacting to chemicals in Jean’s, but not one part of his brain bothered with any of that when Jean’s handsome face and gentle smile and strong, firm body were right there beside him. Jeremy longed to touch him. One touch wouldn’t ruin everything, surely? One kiss ...

'You do,' he murmured. He tried to shake Henry’s words from his mind. 'You’re the best person I’ve ever known, Jean. Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to be intimidated by that.'

Jean tilted his head, eyes tightening. His arm was resting on the back of the couch again; now he reached out and gently touched Jeremy’s cheek.

It was the lightest of touches. A butterfly wing against his skin. Jeremy’s heartbeat quickened.

'I thought that being a father would take up all of my time and attention,' he said. 'I didn’t think anyone could ever draw me in enough for me to make space for them. But with you, I didn’t even notice myself doing it.' He stroked Jeremy’s cheek again, and Jeremy let his eyes drift shut for a moment.

'You changed us,' Jean said, quietly emphatic. 'I don’t know if you can see it, but you did. You challenge and inspire Madeleine - you make her laugh, and brighten her day just by being yourself.'

His words made Jeremy’s heart soar; no matter what happened between them, Jean would put this first. And nothing had happened between him and Jean, yet - if he lost him now, he’d get over it eventually. But if he lost Maddie, he might lose himself too.

'She’s certainly the brightest part of my life now,' he admitted. 'Damn, how did she do that?'

'Worms her way in, doesn’t she?'

They laughed softly together. Jean turned his hand to cup Jeremy’s cheek, and warmth bloomed in his chest in response.

'Must run in the family,' he murmured, eyes fixed on Jean, who now blushed at his words.

Jean’s hand slipped down to his neck, a finger tracing over Jeremy’s pulse point. Jeremy reshuffled his legs in an effort to get closer. He wasn’t quite ready to declare himself yet, but even two people who were just friends could enjoy a kiss. 

There was no hesitation from Jean. He leaned right in, his free hand coming to rest on Jeremy’s leg. Jeremy tilted his head with a rush of delight and let himself be kissed. 

It was the most soft, gentle kiss of his life. Jean pressed his lips to Jeremy’s and lingered there. Chaste though it was, it sent little fires scurrying up Jeremy’s spine, and his hands itched to explore. But Jean was the one taking a risk here, so Jeremy let him lead. 

Finally, Jean pulled back slightly so they could both breathe. Jeremy’s heart was beating like crazy, and they hadn’t even done anything yet. Jean whispered his name, and caressed his face.  Jeremy thought he might explode with happiness.

He opened his mouth to reply - and then the silence was shattered by the aforementioned brightest part of their lives, calling for her papa.

‘Yes, Madeleine?’ Jean called back, without even blinking. Jeremy had gotten such a start that he’d pulled right back, and was now mourning the loss. Jean didn’t look surprised.

‘Eau,’ was the sleepy reply. It took Jeremy a second to realise she wasn’t just complaining. 

‘You have a water already,’ Jean reminded her. ‘It’s on your locker.’

A brief pause. ‘’S gone.’

Jean sighed. ‘That means she needs the bathroom,’ he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and gave Jeremy an apologetic look.

‘It’s ok,’ Jeremy insisted. ‘Really. I, uh, have to go anyways.’

Jean went still, and then gave him a serious look. ‘You don’t have to,’ he said. ‘I mean - if I read that wrong …’

Not one to let anything sit without clarification, Jeremy leaned in quickly and kissed him again. Jean’s little intake of breath had Jeremy’s lips curving up into a helpless smile. 

‘You got everything right,’ he murmured, pulling back. ‘But I really do have to go.’

‘Ok,’ Jean replied, dazed. ‘Just, uh - ‘

‘ _PAPA._ ’

‘Oh dear,’ Jean muttered, getting to his feet. ‘I’m coming, hold on.’

Jeremy was unable to control his smile as he put his shoes back on. Jean re-emerged after a few moments with a mostly unconscious Madeleine slung over his shoulder. He placed the empty cup on the kitchen table before disappearing down the hall into the bathroom.

Jeremy knew that if Jean came back he’d only kiss him again, and if Jean asked him to stay the night then he’d say yes. He wasn’t quite sure what he was holding off for, but he still hadn’t quite shaken Henry’s words.

He refilled Madeleine’s cup at the sink and put it back where Jean had left it. As he pulled their door shut behind him, he was surprised at how light and settled he still felt. He thought he’d be mourning the time he could have spent with Jean that he would instead spend trying to heat his own apartment so getting into bed didn’t feel like sliding into snow. A kiss didn’t mean anything, he reminded himself. 

But, despite that, Jeremy felt good. Jean had kissed him. Jeremy had kissed him back. And now, Jeremy had a plan to turn some frowns upside down. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will have art references for Jean's work soon - I work in a bookshop/art gallery so I've been stealing bits and pieces for him lol


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fat chapter because turns out my 1 paragraph summaries end up being more work than I thought?? dafuq
> 
> This chapter needs some art references! Pls take a gander at my countryman Fran McCann's gorgeous work, and also Erin Hanson's. I work in an art gallery/bookshop and we exhibited Fran a few months ago so he's been on ma mind lmao

Jeremy stood outside Rialto gallery at 10am waiting impatiently for Matt and Dan to show up. It had occurred to him that it was rather early to expect them to be up and functioning, given that they’d worked all night, but he was too eager to put his plan in motion to be reasonable.

To be fair, he’d hardly slept either. He’d been up half the night thinking about Jean. For the first time in a very, very long time, he was excited about his future. He was actually _thinking_ about his future. Jeremy had transferred money to his sister’s bank account just a few hours ago so that she could pay their father’s ongoing hospice bills and had found himself spending a little time looking at the figures that remained. He knew deep down that he couldn’t keep up this club lark forever; now that his personal life was starting to treat him well, he wondered if he ought to start thinking about what he was going to do next.

Dan and Matt finally appeared in a cab wearing sunglasses and holding coffees. Dan looked disgruntled but nothing dampened Matt’s spirits for long. He threw an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and said, ‘This is the earliest we’ve been up in months, so you’d better have something good for us.’

‘I do,’ Jeremy said, mentally preparing his speech. ‘But first, I want you to think about how much you love me, followed swiftly by how it’s very good to support struggling artists. Good karma for the soul.’ He waggled his eyebrows. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I feel a favour coming on,’ Dan said, rubbing her temples.

It was a hard sell, but not as hard as Jeremy had feared. Rialto was a small gallery but the interior was attractive, with clean white walls and sharp angles. Jeremy had already been in and located Jean’s small collection for himself, and now he stood Dan and Matt in front of it and waited for a reaction.

‘What am I looking at here, Jeremy?’ Dan asked, arching an eyebrow at the series in front of her.

‘It’s called _Solace_ ,’ Jeremy explained. ‘Just a small collection, but one of several by the artist. He’s been having a hard time getting his work recognised lately, but he does have a strong background to build on. He’s also a children’s illustrator - I’ve got some photographs here.’

He passed Dan his phone, photos already ready for viewing. He wished he’d thought to get some of Jean’s current _Silly Lily_ work, if only for the sake of a thorough portfolio, but he could always Google them if Dan was interested.

Dan accepted the phone and flicked through the photos, Matt looking over her shoulder. Jeremy stepped back a little to give them some space, and turned his attention back to the paintings. They were certainly something, if quite unlike what he’d seen in Jean’s apartment the night before. They were a series of portrait studies; three of the figures were androgynous, in various poses. One was a nude - a woman’s bare face and upper body in sharp relief; her eyes were breathtaking, and seemed to follow Jeremy as he tried to break her gaze.

The fifth was a torso, deceptively simple, but Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off it. The use of light and shadow seemed to trick him - in such a simple image he found so many features to appreciate. It didn’t even occur to him right away that, from the angle of the image and the way the torso was twisted, it was likely a self-portrait.

What a feeling then shivered up his spine at the thought of Jean painting half-naked. Speckles of paint dotting his pale skin. Shivering in a cold studio, but doing his best to put what he saw in the mirror on to canvas. Goosebumps rose on Jeremy’s arms as he took in the professionally hung, well-lit paintings hanging around him and saw just what an incredible, trained talent Jean was. If Jeremy hadn’t been very much in love with him, he might have felt somewhat inadequate. But loving Jean, without any assurances or promises or even a third kiss, made Jeremy feel equal to it all.

‘These are very good,’ Dan said, interrupting Jeremy’s dreamy consideration of love. ‘Unquestionably. But everything in here is very good. And I’m guessing you want me to give this Jean Moreau the Basilica as a venue for an exhibition at a bargain?’

Jeremy smiled winningly at her. ‘I was thinking free,’ he said cheerfully, trying to ignore Dan’s snort and Matt’s amused grin. ‘Listen, I know you don’t know him, or owe him anything.’ He took a deep breath, and remembered Jean’s words. ‘But … I feel like you do owe me this one favour. I’ve never asked for anything other than a job, for which I have repaid you many times over by now. I’ve covered more shifts than I’ve worked regular ones, and I’ll cover any Wednesdays and Thursdays you want, and put my tips from those shifts in the register. I’ll do all the promotion myself. And I’ll never ask you for anything like this ever again.’

Jeremy paused for breath, and to see how this was going over. When nothing was forthcoming but a thoughtful silence, he added quietly, ‘He’s amazing, Dan. And he really needs this.’

Dan sighed. She shared an unreadable look with Matt, then glanced back to the paintings.

‘Christ, who _is_ this guy,’ she said suddenly. ‘Do you owe him money or something, Jeremy?’

Jeremy was taken aback by the question. ‘What? Oh, no. Nothing like that, god. No, I just …’ He paused, not quite knowing how to explain himself. ‘I suppose I just …’ He tried again, but failed. And now he feared he was blushing.

‘Dan,’ said Matt, with an amused glint in his eyes. ‘I think Jeremy’s feeling a bit shy.’

‘He’s my neighbour!’ Jeremy blurted out. ‘He lives on my floor. And he has a daughter. She’s just four. I’m very fond of her.’

Dan and Matt exchanged glances. ‘Right,’ Dan said shrewdly. ‘Well, I’ll have to meet him first. And I’ll need to see what else he’s got. I presume it’s not just these five.’

‘No,’ Jeremy said, quickly. ‘In fact, he’s working on a whole new series. And he has some other paintings, I’ve seen them. They were hanging here, but … I don’t know, they’re reshuffling, or something.’

Dan sighed. ‘Jeremy,’ she said gently. ‘There’s no need to flay your own back. I’d be happy to help. You’re right, you have been very good to us.’

‘We’ll definitely have to see more of him, though,’ Matt added. They both had a fine eye for art, and Matt was looking quite closely at Jean’s paintings again. ‘Before we commit.’

‘Won’t be a problem,’ Jeremy said, dazed with triumph. Dan, however, was less interested in the art than she was in Jeremy.

‘I think we need to have a little chat first,’ she said, with that same glint in her eye that Matt had. ‘How about - ’

‘Can I help you?’

Jean’s soft, accented voice brought a smile, unbidden, to Jeremy’s lips, before he realised it meant Jean was behind them. He and Dan turned around to him, but Matt had beat them to it.

‘You must be the artist,’ he said, extending a hand and introducing himself. Dan followed suit with a smile, and then murmured to Jeremy, ‘Got it.’

Jeremy blushed furiously as the three of them got acquainted, and crept quietly away as Dan started to get down to business. He obviously didn’t plan to keep his involvement from Jean - even if he did, Jean wasn’t stupid - but it was only fair that he be allowed to react to the news without the added pressure of Jeremy there too.

He let their voices fade to a hum behind him as he looked at the paintings once more. Jeremy spent a few minutes examining the portrait of the woman, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. When the truth struck him, he felt like an idiot. This must be Serena. Her nose, mouth, and colouring reflected Madeleine’s. Jeremy wondered if ten or fifteen years would see her as its mirror image.

To distract himself, he looked back to the torso. Despite the fact that Serena’s painting was a nude too, the torso was far more erotic to Jeremy. It ended just below his pelvic bone; the V of his hips was utterly tantalising. The suggestion of public hair and the beginning curve of his ass … Jeremy found it hard to tear his eyes away as his imagination ran wild.

‘Jeremy.’

Dan’s voice made him jump. He whirled around and tried to compose his face as she approached him, wielding her sunglasses like a weapon. Jeremy did his best to stand his ground.

‘We’re taking him for coffee,’ she announced. ‘To discuss our investment. He’s a dreamboat, Jeremy - he’ll sell the paintings just by standing there with those shoulders of his.’ She paused, and her expression softened. ‘I won’t heckle you about it - but can I assume that you’ve got more than just a friendship with him?’

I think so, Jeremy thought.

‘I hope so,’ he said aloud, with a tiny smile. No harm in Dan thinking that this might seal the deal for Jeremy. A couple of months ago, that might have been the case. Now, however, Jeremy just desperately wanted to do something good for Jean.

‘We’ll talk tonight,’ she said. ‘Once we have some more details.’

‘Ok,’ Jeremy said. He was already thinking ahead to how best to promote the event, but would probably have spent even more time staring at the painting if he hadn’t been interrupted by the subject himself.

‘Hello,’ Jean said, in that quiet, gentle voice of his. His face was impassive, but his eyes twinkled at Jeremy to let him know that he wasn’t in trouble.

‘Hello,’ Jeremy said, glancing at him briefly before looking away. ‘Where’s the little one today?’

‘Playdate,’ Jean replied shortly. ‘Kindergarten have no school today so Abby offered to have her around for the morning. They have a sitter. I’m stressed about it.’

Jeremy snorted. ‘You must have something very important to do if you actually left the building.’

Jean lifted a shoulder. ‘Had to come here,’ he said. ‘Plead with the curator to give me another week. Things are going little different to how I’d planned.’ He paused. ’I suppose it’s no coincidence that you’re here too,’ he added, mildly, as though he was just examining the artwork. ‘Your colleagues were very discreet, but I have my suspicions.’

Jeremy smiled, but kept his eyes on the art. ‘No idea what you’re talking about. You’d better not keep them waiting.’

He could feel Jean’s eyes on him, and finally gave him a quick glance and a smile.

‘I’ll see you later,’ Jean said, voice full of promise.

‘Mmhm,’ was Jeremy’s only reply. He could barely contain his grin.

*

Generally speaking, Jean wasn’t used to pleasant surprises. His life was as structured as he could possibly make it, and surprise usually involved Madeleine in some way. It wasn’t that Madeleine wasn’t utterly charming and capable of disarming him with one choice phrase he hadn’t expected, but usually it was more like she’d peed her pants on the subway or dropped his phone into her cup of tea or dipped her hair in paint.

While the conversation he had with Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd over coffee was certainly unexpected - and rather exciting - Jean had been deeply distracted by the fact that Jeremy had clearly arranged all of this. Dan told him about the venue and how Jeremy had plans for promoting the exhibition and generating interest.

‘He’s done a bit of that for us before,’ she said, stirring another sugar into her coffee. ‘He’s pretty good at it.’

‘I guess you like having him around,’ Jean said, unthinkingly. But Dan didn’t seem to notice the critical note in his voice, though Matt did look at him oddly.

‘He’s a close friend too,’ Dan admitted, raising her cup for a sip. ‘For both of us, I believe.’

Jean watched her carefully. ‘He’s a very good friend,’ he said, not wanting to give away any of Jeremy’s private life to his bosses, no matter how friendly they claimed to be with him. ‘And my daughter thinks he hung the moon. But this seems like a lot of work for him - ’

‘He insisted,’ Matt interrupted gently. ‘He wants to do it. And he’ll do a great job, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

Jean didn’t doubt that for a second. ‘Oh, I know,’ he muttered. ‘I just don’t want him to be overworked.’

Dan and Matt glanced at each other. ‘Well, you can work that out amongst yourselves,’ Dan said. ‘Listen, we’re psyched about this. Your work is excellent. You’re better than most of the rich assholes who come at us with their art and want us do all the legwork ourselves. We’ve never had someone campaign on behalf of someone else. So, we’ve met you, we’ve seen some of your work. Send us some photos of whatever else you’ve got tucked away and we’d be happy to rent you the club as a venue for a two hour event.’

Jean felt like a maniac for even hesitating. ‘The thing is,’ he began, ‘I’m actually working on a new series. So I’d be exhibiting paintings you wouldn’t have seen in advance.’

Dan just shrugged. ‘It’s ok, we trust you,’ she said. ‘Or, we trust Jeremy.’

They exchanged email addresses and then sent Jean off with his head spinning and wondering when he could get to the studio next. He was going to be late to collect Madeleine and he still hadn’t done half the things he needed to. Then there was the new round of revisions for Amy, and he’d need to visit the club and draw up a floor plan and figure out the layout - would he be able to hang the exhibition, or would he need easels? Where the hell was he going to get that many easels?

Jean spent the rest of the afternoon incredibly distracted. He picked up Madeleine from Abby’s and swung her around until she laughed, and then told her she could do anything she wanted for the afternoon as long as she could keep quiet for a few hours. Madeleine, thrilled with this challenge, played hide and seek with Tigger. All Jean had to do was hide Tigger in the most difficult space possible; Madeleine would scour the apartment with all the grit and determination of a tiny Agatha Christie and never once lose her temper, even when Jean stuffed Tigger inside their teapot. A successful hunt could take almost 45 minutes, during which time Jean sat at the kitchen table and frantically sketched and made plans and tried to avoid going right over to Jeremy’s to yell at him or hug him or do something else entirely.

Truthfully, Jean had been half-mad with desire when he’d seen him standing there in Rialto, staring at Jean’s painting. It wasn’t indicated that the torso was a self-portrait; Jean wondered if Jeremy had figured it out. Jean had wanted to kiss him right away; it had been almost impossible to stop looking at him. Now that they’d kissed, Jean found himself thinking obsessively it. He was also very aware that this changed things between them, and that scared him a little. Jean had avoided seeking out a lover in part because he couldn’t simply have one like anyone else. He had to keep things as stable as he possibly could for Madeleine, and people his age didn’t tend to be eager to become parents to a child not their own. Jeremy loved Madeleine … but it would be unfair to assume he loved her quite that much.

That didn’t stop Jean wanting to trace his lips and eyes on paper and then kiss every part of him until he was breathless. The thought seized Jean and gave him such a jolt of pure desire that he had to smother a gasp.

‘Found him!’ Madeleine cheered from Jean’s bedroom. Jean had hidden Tigger inside the bedsheets, at the very bottom.

‘Well done, sweetheart,’ Jean said, distractedly. ‘I’ll have to think of somewhere better to get the best of you this time.’

Over the course of the day, Jean spoke to Amy, Shane, and his agent, Ellie Mercier. He and Ellie rarely spoke, having very little to discuss. He mainly dealt with Amy and Shane for all _Lily_ -related issues, but he felt like she should know about the exhibition. Like Amy, she often encouraged him to do more of his own work. Jean appreciated their enthusiasm but privately thought that those without children should not suggest how single parents should manage their time.

Over the next two weeks, Jean took great advantage of Abby Winfield’s kindness, and left Madeleine with her for a few hours almost every evening. He also permitted Jeremy to babysit her twice, despite swearing never to do that, because he really was quite insistent. Jean needed all the studio time he could get to have enough ready for the exhibition. He’d been full of hope and excitement for this new series, but now that he suddenly had a deadline - a date arranged with Matt and Dan that suited the club’s event calendar best - he was starting to wonder if he could manage to tease it out to its full potential. A time limit had now taken over exploration and discovery, and he found himself considering one effort “good enough”.

But he couldn’t complain. This was a huge opportunity. And he had Jeremy to thank for it.

While they were corresponding regularly, it was mostly about the exhibition. Jeremy was doing an enormous amount of promotion for him, mainly on social media but also while he was at work too.He spun it all as very positive and fun, but Jean knew how tiring it must all be. He kept wanting to do something to thank him, but all of their limited free time was rapidly being eaten up. They did manage to sneak a quiet chat and a bit of a cuddle after the first night Jeremy sat for Madeleine, but Jean was always very tired after painting. He hadn’t told Jeremy, but the studio time was eating into his weekly budget. As a result, he was a lot hungrier than usual.

‘Productive evening?’ Jeremy asked him lightly, as they lingered at the door. Madeleine was already in bed, and Jean had to admit it was incredibly pleasant to come home to a warm apartment that smelled like baking (of course Jeremy had baked). Even more pleasant was the sight of Jeremy curled up on the couch reading a book and looking completely at home.

Jean nodded, enjoying the feeling of Jeremy pressed close to his body. ‘Very productive,’ he replied. ‘We’re in good shape. How was she?’

Jeremy smiled. He had a very specific smile for Madeleine that Jean utterly cherished.

‘She was her usual charming self,’ he answered, folding his arms in consideration. He leaned against Jean’s shoulder almost unconsciously. ‘We baked blueberry lemon donuts. There’s some left for you in the kitchen, in case you’re hungry. She was very interested in my family this evening, asking all about my sisters. I couldn’t actually tell her much, so I might have made some things up.’

Jean shrugged, giving him a little smile. ‘With Maddie, It’s the story that counts.’

‘Well, good,’ Jeremy said. ‘I have plenty of stories to tell her, in that case.’ He brushed his hand lightly against Jean’s chest, eyes twinkling at him. Jean felt that touch go all the way through to his heart.

‘Would you like to stay for a while?’ he murmured, so eager to wrap his arms around him that he forgot what day it was.

Jeremy smiled, like he knew. ‘I’d love to,’ he said lightly. ‘Call my boss for me, would you?’

Jean sighed regretfully. ‘Oh, right. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately. Too busy to see you.’

‘That was my idea,’ Jeremy reminded him. ‘In fact this whole thing was my idea, in case you’ve forgotten, so if anyone should be apologising it should be me. So I am. Sorry.’

Jeremy was so good at making him smile. Jean found that, despite his rising stress levels and diminished funds and free time, he was happier than he’d been in - well, a long time. It wasn’t that he’d been unhappy before, but at times now he found that he was almost giddy with it.

‘You’re forgiven,’ Jean said quietly, resting their heads together briefly. ‘Of course.’

Little moments like this weren’t as common as Jean would have liked - not by a long shot - but they certainly occupied the forefront of his thoughts, alongside Madeleine, the exhibition, and money.

Even with all of the issues associated with getting the exhibition together as quickly as possible, Jean had to admit that it was exciting. One evening, a week before the day of, he found himself surrounded by the entirety of his work so far, which he’d set up to figure out how he’d hang it. It was quite something to stand in the middle of it all, turning a slow circle, and watching his story unfold.

Jean went to Basilica the following afternoon to meet Dan and get a feel for the venue itself. Basilica had two levels, and the exhibition would be held downstairs, in the largest space. Jean had to admit that while he’d been expecting something that would suggest the seedier side of night life, he had to admit that the building was rather dignified.

‘Used to be a church,’ Dan told him, bustling him into the bright lights. ‘So we’re fairly well set up for this kind of thing.’

Jean saw quickly what she meant. The church had been a Catholic one, and as such had many religious works of art hanging from the walls. The walls were dark which wasn’t ideal, but Jean was pleasantly surprised with the quality of the lights they had provided. They were almost as good as the ones in Rialto.

‘I like this,’ he murmured, standing in the middle of the biggest space. He had photos of everything on his phone and now he took it out to capture as best he could the size and shape of the venue. He really would have liked Jeremy with him for this, but he was busy with some of his friends. Jean hadn’t asked twice - Jeremy had so many friends, it was a wonder he could make time for Jean at all.

So instead, Jean had brought along his biggest critic.

‘It smells weird,’ Madeleine stage whispered to him.

‘It’s the dry ice, cutie,’ Dan replied, flashing her a smile. ‘A funny smoke that we make here at night to make people feel mysterious and secretive.’

Madeleine looked intrigued by this. ‘Why would they want to feel mysterious?’ she asked, letting go of Jean’s hand to better give Dan her attention.

‘You’ll find out when you’re older,’ Jean told her, which between them was code for “leave this subject alone now please”. He liked Dan, but he wasn’t sure how used she was to children.

Between the two of them they got the whole place photographed. Madeleine helpfully pointed out several spots Jean had missed, such as a fancy table leg by the DJ station, and a whorl in the wood of the floor that looked (to her) like an octopus.

‘You have a very good helper,’ Dan commented.

‘I’m his assistant,’ Madeleine told her.

‘And you’re doing a very good job,’ Dan agreed, smiling at her. ‘Jeremy has told me lots of stories about you.’

Madeleine’s eyes sparkled. ‘Do you know Jeremy?’ she asked, with great interest. Jean stifled a laugh; it was possible that amongst all the excitement and rushing around, some of the relevant information had passed her by.

‘Jeremy works for me,’ Dan told her. ‘And he’s one of my best friends.’ As she spoke, she ran her hand over Madeleine’s head. Jean understood the impulse, even if he still bristled at hearing Jeremy described as Dan’s friend. If she were really his friend, she would have forced him to quit the club already.

‘Time to go, sweetheart,’ he said, holding out his hand for her. ‘Thank you so much for letting us in,’ he added to Dan, because everything else aside she was still a very generous patron. ‘It’s all going to look great.’

‘How’s it coming on your end?’ she asked, shoving her hands in her pockets. Jean was struck by how young she was. Her hair was chopped very short and her skin was a lovely bright brown, and she looked the picture of youth and health. Certainly not the hardworking taskmaster Jean knew she was.

‘Almost done,’ he said, with a reassuring smile. ‘One or two might be wet, but that’s not uncommon. Anyone who purchases on the night will have it shipped to them at a later date anyways.’

‘Before you go, we should go over those details,’ Dan said, digging out her phone. ‘So, tell me again about the terms of sale …’

Because Jean couldn’t be everywhere, Dan and Jeremy were going to be doing some selling on his behalf. As such, they needed to know prices, relevant discounts, and certain features of each work. Jean would be the one to close any sales, but it would be helpful if they could be talked towards it while he was otherwise occupied. They’d also take payment and the customer’s details too. All in all, it was starting to come together nicely, which meant Jean could now start to get very nervous.

As the exhibition clashed with Abby’s work hours, Jean had taken the plunge and asked Allison if she could watch Madeleine for the evening. As first-time favours went, it was a big one; the exhibition began at 8 but Jean would have to be available from the afternoon to hang it and help set everything up. Although Jeremy was technically on duty for the whole event, he’d offered to help with that part. While he admitted to knowing absolutely nothing about art, Jean was very grateful to be able to rely on at least one person being patient with him while he jostled paintings to and fro all afternoon.

Luckily, Allison readily agreed. She even planned a whole afternoon for the girls which eliminated one of the tricker logistical elements of the day; Jean had planned to bring Madeleine into the city in the afternoon, then drop her to Allison’s place in Queens and head back to the club. Or at least to the city. But Allison insisted on taking her at 2pm and keeping her until everything was over. Jean had collected Rose from school with Kevin on a few occasions now, and somehow she felt desperately in debt. Allison made it clear that if the event ran late, she had no problem putting Maddie in a pair of Rose’s pyjamas and sticking them both in bed. While Madeleine would probably have loved this, Jean didn’t want to push Allison’s kindness so soon.

However, he had to admit that this definitely eased some of his tension. Now that Madeleine was guaranteed to have a safe and fun day with a trusted adult, Jean could almost put her out of his mind. That said, Jean foresaw himself wearing his best shirt in some cafe near the club and stress-drinking cups of coffee as the seconds ticked slowly by.

Jeremy, however, had other plans.

‘I’m taking you to dinner after this,’ he told Jean sternly. He was holding up a painting for Jean to look critically at, and smiled when he saw Jean’s surprised expression. ‘What, did you think I was just gonna let you go freak out somewhere by yourself? And don’t give me any of that crap about your “artist’s routine” or whatever. This day is going to be as fun as I can make it, and stress is not good for the soul.’

‘I wasn’t going to say anything like that,’ Jean said, amused. ‘I just thought you might have better things to do than calm me down.’

Jeremy frowned, shifting his grip on the painting slightly so he could get a look at it. ‘What? More important than this? I’ve been looking forward to this for ages.’

Jean squinted at him to see if he was teasing, but Jeremy seemed genuine. This made Jean’s heart do a funny leap.

The Basilica definitely wasn’t what Jean was used to in terms of exhibition space, but it just meant adjusting his plans slightly. He and Madeleine had spent the morning loading up all his paintings from the studio into a rented van and he’d dropped her off at Allison’s on his way into the city. It would be nice, Jean thought, when Madeleine was old enough to be his partner in crime on exhibition days.

‘So, is this ok?’ Jeremy asked, gesturing to the walls. Most of the paintings would fit around the perimeter of the space, but a few Jean wanted propped on easels at strategic points. ‘I guess white walls would be best - these are kind of grey - but everything looks pretty good, don’t you think?’

There was a thin thread of anxiety in his query. Jean looked around at what they’d created between the two of them, and felt satisfied. He could have tried to communicate that satisfaction to Jeremy with words but he’d never been the best at those. Jeremy would probably just think he was trying to make him feel better. So instead, Jean slipped an arm around Jeremy’s waist and pulled him close so he could kiss his cheek. Jeremy, blushing furiously, said, ‘Alright, ok, I get it.’

‘You did good,’ Jean murmured against his hair, reluctant to let him go. ‘I really can’t thank you enough.’

Jeremy wrapped his arm around Jean’s middle and rubbed his forehead against his shoulder in a way that Jean found incredibly comforting. ‘So are you excited?’

Jean was never excited about these things until they were over. ‘I’m nervous,’ he admitted, rubbing Jeremy’s hip absentmindedly. ‘But that’s normal for me.’

Jeremy leaned back a little to look at him. ‘Anything I can do to take your mind off it?’

He was being cheeky, and grinned when Jean’s face coloured in response. It wouldn’t be the most unreasonable thing in the world to suggest that sex would calm him down, but it might just overshadow the day. Along with a few other issues.

‘Just - lets just go to dinner,’ Jean babbled, pulling him towards the exit. If he stared at his work any longer he’d just end up second guessing his choices.

It was technically too early for dinner but they had to be back at the club before 7, so they went out and found a place that did Chinese food pretty much all day long. Over a steaming bowl of noodles and dumplings Jeremy let Jean talk out all his anxiety and then told him that it was all going to be fine. Jean had been so focused on the painting itself that he had no idea how the whole thing was going to come off. Still, it was hard to feel quite as pressured when Jeremy took his hand over the table and shrugged calmly and said, ‘Whatever happens, happens. And I’ve got a very good feeling.’

They got changed back at the club, putting on clothes that didn’t smell like paint and Chinese food. There was a whole shower and changing area in the staff room, and Jeremy emerged wearing a much snappier version of his usual work clothes, including a fitted black shirt that was open attractively at the neck. He was also makeup free, which Jean found slightly disappointing. It was a formal event, but it was still the artsy side of Manhattan, and the little bit of flair suited Jeremy.

‘You look, uh, very nice,’ he told him, straightening his own shirt a little self-consciously.

Jeremy flashed him sweet smile. ‘Thank you,’ he said demurely. ‘You look very professional. And handsome.’

They both grinned at each other in embarrassment. Luckily Matt poked his head in looking for Jean and spared them any more silliness.

The Basilica had been transformed since they’d left for dinner. Dan and Matt really knew how to dress the place up; it was cleaned and polished to within an inch of its life, with all unnecessary club items removed from sight. With the lights set just right, Jean’s work were patches of the brightest colour that inevitably drew the eye, and were evenly spaced enough to avoid cluttering and overshadowing each other. Jean glanced at Jeremy and felt a little shiver of excitement at the impressed look on his face.

‘It really does look good,’ he said, almost to himself. His eyes were already drawn to several of the nearest paintings, flitting back and forth between them. ‘I’m usually upstairs for all of this.’

Dan had insisted on opening the bars upstairs, even though Jean was concerned about this drawing people away from the art. To compensate, she had allowed Jeremy to set up one of the bars downstairs too, which he would operate with another member of staff. Jean focused on her long blonde hair and familiarity with Jeremy and decided that this must be Laila. He’d like to have spoken to her a bit more, but suddenly Dan was there and opening the doors and pushing a glass of something into Jean’s hand to calm his nerves.

‘Just do your thing,’ she said soothingly. She looked dazzling and fierce in a sparkly black dress. ‘I’ll open the show soon, and we’ll take care of the rest.’

Jean heard her words but didn’t heed them. Suddenly all of his work - this precious new series called  _Luciole_ that he could hardly explain to himself, let alone to others - was on full display, to be interpreted by anyone, in any way they cared. And what would Jeremy think? Fear broke out in a cold sweat on his back.

There was no time to even look to Jeremy for reassurance, for he had slipped into work mode and was already offering drinks and mingling. It looked so easy - probably because it was. Jeremy didn’t have anything on the line except his tips. With that in mind, Jean tried to adopt the same easy attitude as he put on his own work face.

There was plenty of initial oohing and aahing. Jean didn’t let it go to his head; serious art critics rarely commented on an initial viewing, and Jean’s work was, at first sight, visually very impressive. Bright colour and recognisable themes and images were always appealing to those not artistically inclined. The artist in him wanted people to see deeper and perceive the concept and meaning of the series as a whole, but the artist in him wasn’t paying the bills. So Jean smiled as charmingly as he could and wandered from painting to painting, offering insight and comment on whatever they wanted to hear. The patrons were a mixed bunch; some were around his age and dressed very stylishly, and spent most of their time selecting the fanciest drink the bar had on offer and then sipping it attractively in front of a painting. Then there were those who went slowly from painting to painting, sometimes alone or with just one companion. These were usually the ones who avoided Jean’s eye, and who Jean made a mental note to approach later as though he’d singled them out for their particular taste.

Jeremy, Dan, and Matt wandered the room with him. Low music played from the DJ to set the mood, and though many people wandered upstairs to the bar eventually, Jean saw Jeremy scooting up after them on several occasions. He usually came back down with someone on his arm.

‘What are you actually saying to people?’ Jean asked Dan, when he passed her by. She’d spent ten minutes in conversation with a very interested looking couple over a painting from the middle of the series. It had more darkness in it than others, and was one that Jean had wanted to expand on but ran out of time.

Dan shrugged. ‘I’m just making it sound good,’ she said. ’Nothing specific. They want to talk to you now, so go close the deal while I get the credit card machine.’

The couple in question loved Jean’s confession about wanting to expand more on this piece, and were eager to learn where he planned on taking the series.

‘It’ll be fun to catch up with you in a few years and see how this developed,’ the man said, gesturing.

‘We’re big fans now,’ added the woman with a smile. ‘Do you have any earlier work?’

Jean ended up plugging Rialto more than he’d intended. He was still sore at them removing his work, but this might be a doorway to getting back in there.

Jean had his eye on one woman in particular. She had done some laps of the room and seemed to be on her own, and she had paid great attention when Dan had opened the show and introduced him. She kept coming back to one of his paintings; it was the smallest and also one of the brightest. Jean had called it _Enervate,_ and it was one of the last in the series. No one would really care about that detail but him, but it represented small seeds of hope and finding things to live for. It was quite an important one for Jean. However, despite being approached by both Jeremy and Matt, she just shook her head and smiled politely at their requests.

‘Leave that one alone,’ Jean murmured to Dan, with a glance in her direction. Dan gave him a questioning look.

‘Why?’ she asked. ‘She’s spent the whole night mooning over that painting, I bet she’s only a drink away from pushing the button.’

But Jean was certain. ‘No, leave her be,’ he said firmly. ‘Some are better off without persuasion.’

Several of those present had lost interest in the art side of thing and were heading upstairs and over to the bar. This was only to be expected, and Jean wasn’t too concerned. Five of the paintings already had red stickers on their frames, and Dan and Matt were working on two more. The night had already been a success, and there was still an hour left at least. Jean was trying not to let it go to his head, and took a break from trawling the room to have a drink and look for Jeremy.

‘I presume the red stickers are a good thing,’ Laila said, pouring him a glass of wine with a smile.

‘A red sticker means it’s sold,’ Jean told her, with a deep sense of satisfaction. He normally didn’t allow himself to think about sales until the painting was out of sight, but he’d never sold so many in one go. He was almost giddy. ‘Have you seen Jeremy?’

Laila smirked, and pointed subtly off to her left. ‘He’s working his magic,’ she said. Laila then became occupied with another customer, so Jean quickly backed away from the bar and looked around to see what she was talking about.

By “working his magic”, Laila had obviously meant flirting. Jeremy was giving a beautiful woman his full attention, nodding and smiling and laughing on cue, then gesturing back to the painting admiringly with some comment Jean couldn’t hear. Jean tried not to let it get to him, but he’d spotted Jeremy in several situations like this all night. He reminded himself that this was how things got sold to first-time buyers; you charmed, flattered, cajoled. To certain crowda the paintings would sell themselves, but Jean knew his audience and Jeremy clearly knew it too. He worked a crowd every night for money, and now he was doing it for Jean.

Still, watching Jeremy bat his eyelashes at other people gave Jean heart pangs, and suddenly he wanted the whole event to be over.

The official end of the exhibition was 10pm, but people were still lingering. Dan needed to open the club at 11 but she too was still in talks with a man over what sounded to Jean every time he passed like sports, but somehow ended in a red sticker anyway. Matt had been quietly removing the sold paintings to Dan’s office, whipping them off the walls and out the door once people had moved away from them. Jean was trapped by an elderly couple who had already purchased his least favourite of the bunch, a weird green combination of sky dancers that had never quite worked out the way he'd wanted. He was dying to get away, but he had truly resigned himself to being haunted by this one forever, so he was content to let them talk at him about their younger days where they patronised tiny galleries in Brooklyn and look where we are now, etc. He could see Jeremy over the gentleman’s shoulder making faces at him, and struggled to keep his composure.

‘That’s so nice,’ Jean said kindly. ‘Now, I’m sorry Clarke, Eleanor, but I believe my services are being required over here.’ He pointed at nothing in particular, but the two old dears were happy to excuse him, and sent him off with much back-patting and words of encouragement.

‘My parents,’ Jean explained casually to Jeremy’s inquiring gaze, making him snort with laughter. ‘No don’t laugh, they’re coming over here. I told them you make amazing slippery nipples.’

‘You’re in an appropriately good mood,’ Jeremy said warmly, a grin poking his dimples to life. ‘Pretty sure you can call tonight a success. And I’ll make you as many free drinks as you want later, because Dan said she’s never seen the place so full for an art exhibition. It’s always been the rich society kids that bring in the money, so she’ll definitely let you do this again.’

Jean was very aware of the time. ‘I can’t stay,’ he said regretfully. ‘I still have to go get Madeleine - ‘

‘You can stay for one drink,’ Jeremy insisted. ‘You haven’t left her on a park bench somewhere. And you can’t let tonight go uncelebrated.’

‘We’ll celebrate,’ protested Jean. ‘When you’re, uh, free.’

Jeremy didn’t look impressed. ‘Right, in two weeks time when all the balloons have deflated. You’re staying for one. That’s that.’

There was no getting away from him. After Jean had thanked the last of the stragglers, and seen those who were staying for the night safely up the stairs, he joined Matt in removing the rest of the paintings and easels, and retreated to Dan’s office.

‘Jeremy’s got it covered outside,’ Dan said, following them in to the roomy space, decorated all over with photographs and post-its. ‘Alright, lets do the math.’

Dan was an expert record-keeper, and not a sale had gone by without her taking note. As such, they had the evening’s tally already worked out and ready to be transferred to Jean. Jean had promised her 10% of the total to make up for providing the venue free of charge.

‘Let’s call it 5%,’ Dan said, shrugging. ‘We made more on drinks than I thought we would.’

Jean blinked. ‘What? Are you sure?’

Dan just shrugged again. Jean felt compelled to say, ‘You realise you’re coming down on the figure?’

Matt laughed. ‘We don’t need it,’ he admitted. ‘Half the people staying for the club aren’t regulars. You’re doing us the favour.’

Jean hesitated. It was very tempting, though his pride insisted he couldn’t take something for nothing.

‘How about we call it 8%,’ Jean said.

Dan met his gaze evenly. ‘7%,’ she said. ‘And we’ll give the extra to Jeremy as a bonus.’

Jean blinked. He hadn’t even thought of that. ‘In that case, definitely 10%.’

They both burst out laughing.

‘There we go,’ Matt said, clapping him on the back.

‘We’ll call it 8,’ Dan said, bending over her calculator. ‘Since you insist. Same terms.’

The figure was a tidy six thousand dollars. Jean’s head was spinning.

‘Not bad for an evening’s work,’ Matt commented. It hadn’t even been close to just one evening’s work, and Jean still had to rent the van again and find a new gallery for all of his old stuff, but he wasn’t remotely put off by any of this.

‘You’ll probably get some calls in the next few days,’ he told them. ‘It’s like the opposite of buyer’s remorse. Sometimes art needs to sit in your brain for a while.’

Dan nodded. ‘We’ll pass all the numbers on to you,’ she agreed. ‘And speaking of that reverse buyer’s remorse, there was something I wanted to talk to you about …’

Jean returned to the club once the money had been safely transferred to his bank account. He’d quickly directed most of it over to Maddie’s savings account, leaving a little over to pay various exhibition-related expenses. This did mean he could take a little off the top of his monthly deposits into her account; maybe he could take Jeremy someplace nice with it.

The bigger gain tonight had been getting his name out there again. There was no price on that. The buzz from tonight would hopefully get him into a new gallery.

‘Ready for that drink yet?’ Jeremy asked, leaning over the bar with a smile. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, probably to protect from all the liquor he spilled as he worked. Jean had no idea how he and his colleagues didn’t slip.

‘So ready,’ Jean admitted. ‘But just one.’

‘Just one, I know,’ Jeremy acknowledged. ‘A slippery nipple, wasn’t it?’

Jean laughed as Jeremy moved away to the bottles. ‘I don’t even know what that is,’ he confessed.

‘It’s a shot,’ Jeremy told him. ‘Schnapps and cream. You want one?’

Jean shook his head. ‘Uh, no,’ he smiled. ‘But we should do a shot. You can do that, right? One for the bar?’

Jeremy grinned, eyes down. ‘Jean Moreau, I do believe you’ve been to a club before,’ he said coyly.

Jean shrugged. ‘I did have a life before parenthood, believe it or not.’

‘You’ll have to tell me about that some time,’ Jeremy said, lining up two shots of pale amber liquid. Jean had smelled the tequila before he’d seen it.

Jean locked eyes with him before picking up the shot. ‘I prefer my life now,’ he said. ‘Before doesn’t really seem that interesting.’

Jeremy watched him, a thoughtful little smile curving his lips. ‘I know what you mean,’ he said eventually.

They clinked their glasses together and threw back the shot. Jean winced at the taste - definitely didn’t miss that - but he had to admit it was nice to lean at a bar with money in his pocket and pretend he was just out for the night and flirting with a sweet guy.

‘That wasn’t your drink, by the way,’ Jeremy added. He’d taken the shot like water. ‘What are you in the mood for?’

Jean was a simple man at heart. After a successful evening like this, he knew what he liked. Jeremy set a Manhattan down on front of him and himself down on the stool next to him.

‘Are you allowed just hang out with people while you’re at work?’ Jean asked.

Jeremy shrugged calmly. ‘Don’t care,’ he said. He leaned forward and kissed Jean’s cheek. ‘Gonna hang out with you for as long as I can.’

Jean sipped his drink as slowly as he could, and Jeremy prompted and prodded him into getting excited about his success until Jean actually was excited. He suspected that Jean wanted to tempt him into staying out longer, but he couldn’t just leave Madeleine at Allison’s all night. They hadn’t had the sleepover talk yet. And Jeremy had to go back to work at some point.

‘We will celebrate properly,’ Jean promised again. ‘Soon.’

‘I know,’ Jeremy said easily, already backing off. ’Same time, same place? I mean I get why you had to cancel the last couple of times, but I miss the hallway.’

Jean would loved to have kept on flirting with him, but contrary to popular belief, shouting sweet nothings over the thunder of club music wasn’t very romantic.

‘Soon,’ he promised, the inkling of an idea forming in his mind. ‘I owe you for this.’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘You don’t, not at all,’ he disagreed. Jean just smiled and shrugged, not even bothering to contradict him, but Jeremy wasn’t done.

‘I didn’t do this as a favour,’ Jeremy insisted. ‘I really don’t want anything in return. I did it because I like you.’ He paused, looking pensive, and there was a moment where they both stared at each other in silence unbroken but for the thudding of Jean’s heart. He wished he could unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Before he could manage it, Dan was there, clapping a hand on his shoulder and asking him if he wanted another drink.

‘No,’ he said, finally finding his tongue. ‘I have to go pick up my daughter. Thank you, though, for everything.’

Dan waved her hand. ‘It’s done now,’ she said airily. ‘I’ll give you a call about the other thing.’

Jeremy looked from her to Jean questioningly. ‘What other thing?’

Dan tweaked his ear. ‘Back to work, baby boy,’ she quipped, with a wink at Jean, who didn’t really appreciate that.

‘See you later,’ Jeremy muttered to Jean, sliding off his stool.

‘Bye,’ Jean said belatedly. Jeremy was already well out of earshot.

It wasn’t the most positive spin for the evening to end on, but Jean cheered himself at the thought of telling Madeleine that Papa sold _thirteen paintings_. She probably wouldn’t believe him.

Jean went over his notes from the evening on his phone on the way home. The paintings were still cooling their heels in Dan’s office, as he couldn’t drive them back to the studio tonight. He’d need the van again to deliver all the paintings - no way was he paying for that shipping. The work wasn’t over yet, but Jean still felt triumphant.

It was almost eleven thirty by the time he got to Queens. He’d already sent a few apologetic messages to Allison about the late hour; she’d replied with a picture of the two girls asleep top to toe in Rose’s bed. While this was eye-wateringly cute and something he immediately saved to send to Jeremy, Jean didn’t like having to wake her up in the middle of the night. He supposed one night of disturbed sleep wouldn’t stunt her growth and was probably worth the money he’d just added to her college fund, but she wouldn’t be happy about it until she was eighteen.

Allison lived on the ground floor of a two story house in a nice part of Queens, and her house smelled like lavender and cookies. Madeleine smelled like cookies too when he lifted her warm body out of bed. Allison helped get her into her coat and sneakers, and held her while Jean shouldered her little backpack containing her clothes and assorted necessary items. Allison had helpfully lengthened the straps for him.

‘Papa where we going?’ Maddie whispered drowsily, stirring as Allison transferred her back to Jean and helped them out the door.

‘Going home, baby,’ he whispered back, waving at Allison and mouthing his thanks.

‘Do we gotta walk?’

Jean had planned ahead; the Uber was waiting outside to carry them the ten blocks home.

‘No, we have a limo,’ he told her, sliding into the back seat and cradling her in his lap. ‘They heard how important you were.’

Madeleine’s lips twitched into a pleased smile, but she was already asleep again. Jean kissed her forehead and inhaled her sweet, achingly familiar scent, letting it return him to himself. She wouldn’t be so sweet in the morning, but Madeleine could always be won over with pancakes and hot cocoa served in a grown-up glass.

The success of the exhibition, and what it could mean for him, had gotten Jean thinking seriously about his future again. Before, he’d thought that had just meant a reliable income and a happy child. Now, however, he was starting to realise it might mean something more.

The next day he got a text from Dan that just said “You were right”. There was a phone number in the message. Jean excused himself from a grumpy Madeleine, who was colouring grimly at the kitchen table, to call the number.

It was the woman he’d been watching at the exhibition. Once he’d introduced himself she became flustered, and tried to explain herself.

‘I’ve never bought art before,’ she said nervously. ‘I’ve never studied it or anything - I’m a social worker, I’ve never had time for that kind of thing. But I love that painting so much - I couldn’t sleep last night from thinking about it. I don’t do spontaneous things like this, Mr Moreau, but I do know my own mind.’

She sounded like she was trying to sell Jean home insurance. He tried to keep the smile out of his voice as he assured her that the painting hadn’t been sold, and was hers if she wanted it.

‘Oh, thank god,’ she breathed. ‘That’s great. Thank you so much. Oh, what a relief. I’ll send you a cheque.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jean, rattling off his home address. ‘It’ll take me a week or so to get them all shipped, but I’ll send you a receipt in the mail so you know it’s done.’

‘You know, it’s a funny thing,’ the woman (whose name was Marcy) said. ‘I’ve seen so many paintings that I’ve loved before. Plenty that I could have bought if I’d had the money. But I’ve never felt quite so affected by one before as I have by this particular one. And I mean, no offence - but it’s not exactly the grandest one in the bunch, is it? But it makes me feel so hopeful - so right. I can’t thank you enough.’

Jean, struck by her words, could barely stammer out his own thanks. She’d insisted on paying full price, since it was one of the cheapest. Really those prices were just starting off points - there was always a deal to be done - but Jean didn’t feel like haggling for less money.

‘Sometimes you just have to go for what feels right,’ Marcy said, as they were about to hang up. ‘I’m glad I did.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Jean said, in a daze. The whole conversation had been a whirlwind, but her words held good sold advice. After messaging Dan to ask her to sticker the appropriate painting, he had a little browse on Amazon and then went to talk to Madeleine.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot left to come, and only three chapters to do it in. January is looking kind of busy - I have to move into a new house and do all this visa shit and my job is fucking chaos right now - but I'm hoping to update every week or so! 
> 
> <3333


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been how long since I've updated? January ya bitch

It was a week before Jeremy saw Jean properly again. He was working later hours than usual, which meant he was sleeping the day away to compensate. As well as that, his friends had started getting a bit resentful that he literally never hung out with them anymore. Laila and Alvarez insisted on turning up at his apartment and dragging him out for brunch, or to a movie or a play. He didn’t complain - when he was with them, he remembered that he loved them - but he found himself desperate to talk about Jean. He’d already told them all about Madeleine and her antics, but as far as they knew Jean was just the father that he had a crush on. Laila did have an inkling after the exhibition, but it hadn’t been discussed. At this point, not talking about him was almost painful for Jeremy.

Wednesday arrived, and with it a text from Jean.

 

 **Jean:** Free tonight?

 

Jeremy replied eagerly that he was.

 

 **Jean:** Maddie has a playdate today and will be dining out. I promised her we could watch a movie tonight. Will you join?

 

 **Jeremy:** Definitely! What are we watching?

 

 **Jean:** Beauty and the Beast. We’ve never seen it so no spoilers

 

 **Jeremy:** One of my faves. Can’t wait. What time? Can I bring anything?

 

 **Jean:** 6pm. Just bring yourself x

 

Jeremy wasn’t sure if this counted as celebrating, but he was very excited by the idea. It simply wasn’t in him to not bring something to the Moreau’s, no matter what Jean said, so he passed a peaceful afternoon baking soft lemon cookies with chocolate chips. He was starting become very partial to lemon himself.

He put the Tupperware into his bag and planned on keeping it hidden until they were all too hungry for snacks for Jean to say no; but alas, a trickster cannot fool a trickster.

‘You smell like lemon and cookies,’ Madeleine said suspiciously, when he sat down beside her on the couch. ‘Did you bring … something?’

‘Ssh,’ Jeremy said in warning, putting his finger to his lips. ‘Your Papa told me not to.’

‘Why?’ Madeleine asked indignantly - and loudly.

Jean looked up from the laptop. ‘You do smell like baking,’ he said narrowing his eyes at Jeremy.

‘It’s my permanent state,’ Jeremy said calmly. ‘Come on, are we watching this thing or not?’

Jean had made a pot of tea; under strict supervision, he allowed Madeleine to pour for them all.

‘This is a nice tea cosy,’ Jeremy commented, fingering the soft blue knit.

‘No it’s not,’ Madeleine said loudly.

‘Madeleine, I told you already that when you own your own teapot, you can get whatever tea cosy you want for it,’ Jean said testily.

’You should have gotten the pink one.’

‘Well, I wanted the blue one.’

‘Pink is better. The blue one is ugly.’

‘Hey,’ Jeremy interjected, poking Madeleine’s shoulder. ‘How come you’re being mean today?’

Madeleine looked astonished at the implication. ‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘Am I?’ She looked to Jean for guidance, but he just shrugged at her.

Madeleine looked back to Jeremy, perplexed.

‘Your papa likes the tea cosy,’ Jeremy explained gently. ‘Do you think telling him it’s ugly makes him happy or sad?’

Jean was fighting back a smile, but had the sense to look solemn when Madeleine checked his expression.

‘Sad,’ Madeleine said slowly. Then, in a bare whisper, she added, ‘Sorry Papa.’

Jean nodded like he was truly wounded. ‘It’s ok,’ he said. He actually had the gall to sniff. Jeremy shook his head in admiration.

Madeleine, full of contrition, crawled over to him for a hug, which was provided, and all was forgiven. He murmured, ‘Will you be a good girl now?’, and received a tiny head nod in return. Jean winked at Jeremy over her shoulder, who felt a rush of relief. He hadn’t meant to be that guy who steps in to discipline other people’s kids, but he’d felt a bizarre urge to protect Jean from his four year old’s toothless barbs about his choice of tea cosy. Jean didn’t seem to have taken any offence.

Movie night at the Moreau’s had a definite ritualistic feel to it. Once the tea was poured, Madeleine skipped around turning off all non-essential lights, then put Jean’s cell phone upside down on the coffee table and held out her hand to Jeremy.

‘Phone, please.’

Bemused, Jeremy handed over his cell, which she dutifully placed on top of Jean’s.

‘Oh yeah,’ Jean said belatedly, looking like a man who’d lost a battle. ‘That’s a rule. No phones.’

Another rule was they all had to sit on the same couch. Once the movie began, Jean sat down beside Jeremy but Madeleine immediately wriggled between them.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to sit over there?’ Jean tried asking her, to Jeremy’s eternal amusement. ‘On your seat?’

‘No,’ Madeleine said easily, getting comfortable. Her little butt was perched on Jean’s thigh but her legs were draped over Jeremy’s, and she reached out imperiously for her cup of tea.

’All set?’ Jean asked her dryly. She nodded, sipping pointedly.

Jean and Jeremy shared an amused glance over her head; as they held it, Jean’s softened to something that made Jeremy’s heart shiver and glow.

Jeremy had been a Disney child, so he knew the movie well. Jean, however, clearly had not been one of those children. Though Madeleine’s gasps and squeals of delight were incredibly sweet, Jeremy got the most enjoyment from glancing slyly at Jean out of the corner of his eye. He’d probably been expecting your standard 2017 kids movie, with all of the cringey jokes and none of the sweetness and morals, but _Beauty and the Beast_ doesn’t fuck around. By the time Belle was saving her father from the dungeon, Madeleine was up on her knees and Jean was frowning between her and the tv.

‘This is dark,’ he muttered to Jeremy.

‘You think _this_ is dark,’ Jeremy whispered back to him, with a sly smile. ‘You’re not even to the good part yet.’

‘I assume this has a happy ending,’ Jean asked him quietly, after another few minutes of Belle suffering and the Beast yelling.

Jeremy glanced at him with one eyebrow raised. ‘Well …’

Jean’s eyes widened. ‘Jeremy,’ he began, warningly.

Jeremy couldn’t even try to keep it up. He let his face relax into a smile as Jean rolled his eyes.

‘Teasing you,’ Jeremy murmured, reaching out to poke him gently. Jean caught his finger mid-poke, and the held it for a moment. Jeremy hesitated, wondering if this move fell under the heading of “something we need to talk about”, but at the last second he shrugged it off and took Jean’s hand.

Jean looked surprised at first, but only for a second. Then his hand twisted slightly so he could interlock their fingers, and the shy smile that crept across his face made Jeremy’s heart flutter with excitement and hope.

They held hands behind Madeleine’s back for the rest of the movie. She didn’t notice - even if she had, she probably wouldn’t have said anything. Madeleine had very little basis for how friendly adults were supposed to behave towards each other. Then again, Jean probably wasn’t going around holding hands with Allison Reynolds or his neighbour. Maybe she’d catch on quicker than Jeremy thought.

Every so often, Jean would brush his thumb across Jeremy’s. And every time he did, Jeremy’s heart tapped eagerly against his chest and asked when he was planning on making a move.

It was exciting. This was _something_. Jeremy could hardly sit still.

Madeleine went very quiet towards the end of the movie. Gaston’s march on the Beast’s castle, mob in tow, had her crawling into Jean’s lap and watching it from behind his hand that she held to her face. When it appeared that the Beast was going to die, Madeleine’s eyes went wide with shock. Jean too was looking a little stunned, like he was too caught up in the moment to remember that this was a children’s film and clearly ended happily ever after. Then again, there probably hadn’t been too many happy ending movies when he lived with his uncle. Jeremy wanted to put his arms around the pair of them and kiss their sweet faces.

After all the dancing and happiness at the end of the movie, Madeleine was full of joy. The cookies had been produced around about the time that Belle was enjoying the _Be Our Guest_ dinner display, and Jeremy was now glad that he’d gone easy on the sugar. Jean stood Madeleine on his toes and danced her around the living room while the movie’s main theme played in the background.

‘This looks like some professional dancing,’ Jeremy commented, leaning over the back of the couch to watch them, a feeling of deep satisfaction and contentment in his chest.

‘I’m professionally trained,’ Jean joked over his shoulder.

‘Your tone says you’re kidding but actions speak louder than words, Jean.’

‘Papa can you teach me?’ Madeleine asked, jigging up on down on his feet while holding on to Jean’s hands tightly.

‘Sure I can,’ Jean agreed. ‘I’ll teach you everything I know.’

‘And then I can teach you and Jeremy ballet,’ Madeleine went on, nodding to herself. Jean met Jeremy’s eyes; his dry expression tickled Jeremy so much he had to duck down on the couch to laugh.

They were almost at bedtime, so Jeremy got up to leave. After a serious conversation with Madeleine that involved assurances of a dinner date _soon,_ Jeremy was just about to head out the door when Jean caught his arm.

‘Are you around tonight?’ he asked quietly.

Jeremy’s heart leapt. ‘Yeah,’ he replied quickly. ‘Why, what are you - ‘

‘I know I said we’d celebrate,’ Jean went on, thumb stroking Jeremy’s elbow slowly. ‘I meant it. Can I come over tonight? I’ve got some very good champagne and you have to drink at least half of it.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘But what about the little one?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t you confined to your tower after dark?’

Jean grinned, and squeezed his elbow briefly. ‘I’ve got a plan,’ he said. ‘We’ve been working on it together. Now go home and let me get this wild creature to bed.’

Jeremy wanted to kiss him - it was almost impossible not to lean in - but Madeleine was causing a ruckus that had Jean turning around quickly to her. No matter. Jeremy slipped away quietly and then began the process of deep-cleaning his apartment.

Jean had only been in Jeremy’s personal living space on two or three occasions, and they were all with Madeleine or on Madeleine-related business. He’d never been there casually, just to _hang out_. Jeremy was starting to get anxious. Should he shower? Change his sheets? Do none of those things because they had yet to progress from brief kisses and hand-holding in a G-rated setting?

Jeremy decided not to do anything that Jean would find weird, like changing his entire outfit and brushing his teeth five times. Instead he made sure he had clean glasses and surfaces, and then he reapplied deodorant and gargled with mouthwash and swept the floor and washed the sink and straightened the towels and basically anything else he could think of that would keep him occupied until there was a knock on his door, almost two hours later.

‘Hello,’ he said, opening the door and feeling stupidly nervous.

Jean had a bottle of champagne in one hand and a small radio-like device in the other.

‘Hello,’ he responded, holding them both up. ‘Would you like to drink champagne and hear about how Madeleine and I have been practising with our new walkie talkies?’

Jeremy uncorked the champagne - Jean didn’t know how - and they nervously clinked glasses together before hiding their faces in them. Then Jean started to reveal his plan.

‘I suggested to Madeleine that maybe sometimes I might want to hang out with a friend at night, when she was gone to bed,’ he explained. They were still leaning against the counter in Jeremy’s little kitchen; Jeremy didn’t want to just sit at the table like they were having afternoon tea, but he wasn’t quite ready to migrate to the couch yet. Too keyed up.

‘What did she think about that?’ he asked, interestedly. The champagne was really very good, but he could hardly taste it.

Jean made a seesaw motion with his free hand. ‘She didn’t seem bothered,’ he said. ‘I don’t think she’s ever considered what I might be doing after she goes to bed. But we went through many drills with these things. Practised calling each other all over the building. I even went and stood outside and got her to call me, so the range is good. She likes the theatrics of it.’

‘Does she know you’re here tonight?’ Jeremy asked. That felt like such a heavy statement hidden behind the question.

Jean shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want her to be thinking about it. I don’t like leaving her at all, but she really does seem calm about it so at least there’s that.’

Jeremy nodded. He didn’t expect Jean to use this as an excuse to be going for sleepovers or out drinking with him, but it was certainly nice to know that a couple of hours with Jean at night may not be out of the question.

‘Plus, they work like baby monitors too,’ Jean added. ‘Here, listen.’

Jeremy took the little device and rolled the volume wheel up. Immediately the space between them was filled with Madeleine’s soft snores, and their eyes met in shared delight.

‘Never too old,’ Jean said quietly, looking at the walkie talkie with such fondness.

The next hour flew by. Jean told him how he’d been packing and shipping all of the paintings that had sold, and how he’d sold two more to people who’d attended the exhibition but hadn’t made a decision on the night. And to top it all off, his old gallery was asking for some of his stuff back.

‘Apparently they’ve been getting calls,’ Jean said. ‘Someone was slipping the gallery’s business card into people’s coat pockets at the exhibition.’

Jeremy just shrugged under Jean’s meaningful look. ‘Don’t know who that could have been,’ he said. ‘But I think that sounds like a very smart move.’

’Oh you do?’

‘Yep, sure do.’

Their eyes met, and Jeremy’s face cracked into a grin under the scrutiny.

‘You just shush and have some more champagne,’ he said, topping up Jean’s glass. ‘You’re celebrating, not interrogating.’

‘If you say so,’ Jean said wryly, but he took the bottle back so he could top up Jeremy’s glass too.

Jeremy was delighted to hear that Jean’s artist career was starting to get back on track. He was even more thrilled to hear Jean talk about it; his voice was so full of passion and quiet awe as he talked with his hands, painting words in the air and pulling Jeremy in with his warmth and gentle spirit.

He was beautiful, and Jeremy loved him. He loved him right down to his bones.

As always, they couldn’t stay away from Madeleine as a topic of conversation for very long. Apparently for her ballet recital at the end of the month there would be special tutus provided for the dancers.

‘Madeleine is so determined to get the red one,’ Jean sighed. ‘It’s a concern.’

‘Will she be very disappointed if she doesn’t get it?’

‘No, my concern is she might kill one of the other children in pursuit of it,’ Jean said frankly. ‘She’s tenacious.’

‘She goes after what she wants,’ Jeremy shrugged. ‘Just like you do.’

Jean quirked an eyebrow at him, and Jeremy flushed but held his ground.

‘With your art,’ he said defiantly. ‘You know you do, Jean.’

Jean regarded him for a little longer, then shrugged and looked away. He couldn’t hide a little smile, no matter how he tried.

When Jean excused himself to go the the bathroom a minute later, Jeremy took the opportunity to move their glasses and the bottle into the living area. His apartment had almost the exact same layout as Jean, except it was a one bedroom, and a little bit smaller; nevertheless, knowing that Jean was just a few feet away gave the whole thing an incredibly pleasant feeling of familiarity and comfort. Jeremy was startled out of this reflective moment by Jean’s laughter coming from the bathroom.

‘Something funny?’ he asked, a little self-consciously, when Jean re-emerged. Had he left a pair of underwear hanging from the faucet? Jeremy had never in his life left his underwear where it should not be, but Jean was definitely laughing at something and it probably wasn’t the novelty sign he’d bought when he’d been in DC with Laila (“You don’t have to brush all your teeth - just the ones you want to keep!”).

Jean came out smiling - the biggest Jeremy had ever seen on him. His heart stopped for a moment.

‘Madeleine’s painting,’ he said, voice full of laughter. ‘I just found it.’

Relief - and no small amount of amusement - flooded through Jeremy, and he finally started to taste that champagne.

‘It was her call,’ he shrugged. ‘She advised me on the best place to hang it - who was I to question the artist if she says that the bathroom door is the place?’

‘Very true,’ Jean agreed. He was coming towards him, and for a moment Jeremy felt a wild hope that he was going to kiss him. But Jean just picked up his glass and sat down, and the moment drifted away.

‘Speaking of art,’ Jeremy said, sitting down beside him. ‘I wanted to ask you about one I saw - not at the exhibition. At the gallery.’

Jean looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Is it my selfie?’ he asked.

Jeremy burst out laughing. He was really enjoying this playful side of Jean, even if it was all champagne-induced. Success suited him.

‘No,’ he amended, still smiling. ‘Not the selfie - though I think that was undoubtedly my favourite of the collection.’

‘Did Dan tell you about that?’ Jean asked unexpectedly.

Jeremy frowned. ‘Tell me what?’

Jean hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Oh, never mind then.’

That was a slight distraction, but Jeremy was already distracted by what he’d been going to say. ‘I meant the one of the woman.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Is that her?’

Jean didn’t answer right away. He was in the middle of finishing his glass; once that was done, he placed the glass on the coffee table and took a moment to think about his response.

‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘That’s Serena. I finished that just a week before she found out she was pregnant.’ He smiled in fond remembrance. ‘She was glowing. It was shining out of her skin. I remember that night, it was so cold. We slept together under about five blankets, in her tiny, terrible apartment.’ Laughter coloured his voice. ‘And the next morning, Madeleine made herself known. Serena was so ill …’ Jean shook his head, his eyes in his past. ‘I kind of hope that one never sells.’

Jeremy couldn’t take his eyes off Jean. ‘Did you love her?’ he asked, unable to stop himself.

Jean was, as usual, unabashedly honest with Jeremy. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘I adored her. She was the most charming and charismatic person I’d ever met. We only made love once - more out of curiosity and vanity than anything else - but it was nothing to do with attraction. I was just crazy about her.’

A mixture of emotions swirled in Jeremy’s chest - one of them may have been envy -but he realised suddenly why Jean was so lonely.

‘You miss her,’ he said quietly.

Jean looked at him. Suddenly the polite space between them meant nothing. The distance shrank to zero.

‘Not really’ Jean said. His voice was low, and came from deep in his chest. Jeremy had never heard it like that before. ‘Not anymore.’

Jeremy shivered. Jean was so close, and looking at him like he wanted to be closer. They’d been here before, but now there were no interruptions. Jean’s attention was focused entirely on him.

 _But what if it happens again_ , a little voice whispered from the dark part of his mind. _If you can’t be with him and then it ruins everything_?

The shock of this thought prevented Jeremy from thinking logically. He drew in his breath and shifted on the couch slightly, away from Jean. He had been feeling confident before - nervous, sure, but confident in how badly he wanted Jean, and how those feelings were surely reciprocated - but he hadn’t thought about this. Now, anxiety battered against his ribcage like a wild thing and made him jumpy.

Jean saw the change.

‘Jeremy,’ he said, still in that same low tone. ‘Just so there are no misunderstandings between us … I am gay. I am not in love with Madeleine’s mother. And I am very, very attracted to you.’

Jeremy’s heart leapt. All of his nerve-endings were on fire, screaming to be touched.

If he kissed Jean now, he was admitting his own feelings. If they had sex, and Jeremy went cold on him like he had after every lover he’d had in the recent past, Jean would be hurt at best. At worst … well, if he shared the same feelings as Jeremy did, he would be heartbroken.

‘We’re out of champagne,’ he said, voice a silly quaver.

Jean blinked, not expecting the stall.

‘I’ve got wine in the fridge,’ Jeremy continued, sliding back from Jean - the opposite of where he really wanted to be - and standing up. Jean’s gaze followed him as he stood.

‘Jeremy, wait,’ he said. God, his voice. He sounded … aroused. Like he wanted him. Like he knew Jeremy wanted him too. Jean could see right through him.

‘I’ll just be a second,’ Jeremy forced out.

The kitchen was in darkness. Jeremy grabbed the wine from the fridge, automatically going to the drawer by the sink for the corkscrew. He pressed his hands to the cool metal of the sink and leaned on it with his eyes closed, trying to find clarity. But it was so hard to think when the burn of desire was still pulsing through him, and Jean was just in the other room. Jeremy had never wanted someone so badly before.

He heard Jean’s footsteps behind him. Sparks flew over his skin as he stepped closer, but he couldn’t turn around. He could taste the sweet tang of champagne in the back of his throat.

Jean stopped right behind him. His hands, tentative, grazed Jeremy’s waist. Fingers skimmed across his hips. He felt Jean’s breath on the back of his neck.

‘Jeremy,’ he whispered.

Jeremy shivered so badly he made a tiny sound at the back of his throat.

Jean was waiting. Jeremy could feel his body thrumming with heat and energy, all of it directed towards him. He was starving for it.

Jeremy reached for his hand. He took it, and pressed it against his body. Jean gave him the time. Jeremy held it there, breathing him in, feeling the elastic band stretch taut. It would stretch and hold, he knew, until he chose to let it go.

He felt himself say Jean’s name. It was lost to him in the shuddering rush of breath against his ear.

He felt Jean’s mouth on his neck even as his hands tightened on Jeremy’s body. His mouth fell open as Jean kissed his skin, lips soft and stubble rough. His movements were slow and firm, and Jeremy felt his body start to unwind and respond. Jean paused to move his mouth higher on Jeremy’s neck, and made a short noise of desire as he did so, his hands slipping across Jeremy’s stomach. One of his fingers grazed bare skin, and they both jumped.

‘Kiss me,’ Jean breathed.

Jeremy didn’t know if he could even speak.

Jean’s mouth was so hot on his neck. Jeremy was pressed against his strong chest, and Jean’s arms were coming around him.

‘Kiss me,’ Jean said again. ‘Jeremy.’

The last time they’d kissed, it had been a shock to both of them. It had arrived suddenly and departed unexpectedly, leaving them both in a daze.

When Jeremy turned around in Jean’s arms, he had a split second of amazement as he looked into Jean’s beautiful grey eyes and saw love there. He wondered if it mirrored his own.

Then his body took over. His hands reached up and took Jean’s face to pull it towards him.

Their lips met in an explosion of sudden and powerful connection, and around him Jeremy’s whole world started to reshape. Jean kissed like painted, like he drew shapes in the air with his hands to tell a story - with a passion that left Jeremy breathless. Their noses bumped as they turned their heads and found angles and lines and curves of themselves that fit together as though they’d been drawn that way from the start. Jeremy held Jean’s face and touched his lips, jaw, cheeks with his fingertips. His crooked nose and his smooth forehead. He slid his hands up and into his hair, hanging on for dear life as Jean kissed him dizzy. He forgot how to breathe, but he didn’t need to. Jean ran his tongue over Jeremy’s bottom lip and then slipped it inside his mouth. Jeremy hung on tighter as his legs started to tremble.

Jean’s energy was dazzling. He had pushed Jeremy right back against the sink, but now he pulled him back against his body and started stepping backwards. He was trying to lead him out - to the living room or bedroom, Jeremy didn’t know. He let himself be led. He wanted to race him there.

They kissed in quick little pecks, teasing each other. Jeremy held back for a moment, for the sheer pleasure of watching Jean lean in and chase his mouth for it. He could feel Jean’s lips smiling as he kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck again, then jump when he felt Jeremy touch his own neck.

Jeremy made a little noise of interest at this. Jean had pushed him back against the wall, halfway between kitchen and couch, and now Jeremy ducked in to touch his lips to Jean’s neck. He let his hands roam over Jean’s broad shoulders as he trembled under his touch, lips pressing softly over his pulse point. Jean’s hands clenched reflexively on Jeremy’s hips, and a little sigh escaped his lips. Sensitive skin or an erogenous zone, Jeremy wasn’t sure. Fuck, he wanted to find out.

Jean was moving his hands over Jeremy’s body; the second Jeremy pulled back, he was kissing him again. Heat flared under his skin and zig-zagged in a lightning bolt down to his abdomen. His nerves and anxiety had taken flight like birds and now he moved his hands confidently on Jean’s body, because he knew him. He knew Jean, and he trusted him, and he wanted to take off all their clothes and know him as intimately as he could. He wanted nothing to exist between them that was not created and shaped by this feeling.

Jeremy let himself be pushed down on to the couch, because he could pull Jean down on top of him. His breathing was almost too fast now that he could feel the whole long length of Jean pressed against his body. He was so excited his hands were shaking. Their kisses became fast and messy, and they bumped knees and got in the way of each other’s elbows, and when Jean laughed softly into his hair Jeremy could feel the words teetering on the edge of his tongue. Jean swallowed them in a kiss before he could get them out.

Jeremy couldn’t stop touching his face and neck, wishing he could get more. He slipped his hand under Jean’s shirt and ran his fingers over his stomach with a brief flash of nerves. He was rewarded by Jean’s sharp intake of breath and immediate loss of coordination. Jeremy grinned, and tugged gently on Jean’s earlobe with his teeth.

‘Teasing you,’ he murmured. He stopped tickling him and instead smoothed his palm over Jean’s chest, as far up as he could go. His arms flashed hot as his finger passed over one of Jean’s nipples; Jean groaned softly in his ear, and Jeremy felt himself getting hard in response.

Jean regained enough control to attack Jeremy’s neck again, mouth working down to his collarbone. His hand came up to pull the v-neck of Jeremy’s t-shirt out of the way, and then he was sucking a bruise into the base of his neck. The pleasure lanced through Jeremy’s body and went right to his dick; he bit his lip and arched up against Jean, but it wasn’t enough of a release. He moaned as he felt the sharp press of Jean’s teeth just for the briefest of seconds, before his lips and tongue were smoothing over the sting.

He found Jean’s lips again, and time disappeared. It was the longest they’d been together without talking.

Just when he was trying to get Jean’s shirt off, things started to slow down. Jean’s kisses trailed off, becoming softer, slower. His hands stopped pressing, feeling, and exploring, instead coming up to take Jeremy’s. Eventually he pulled back, brushing their noses together for a few moments of soft, quiet acknowledgment. He gathered his breath - Jeremy held his own.

‘I have to go,’ he said quietly.

Jeremy almost choked on that suppressed breath. When he regained speech he managed to say, brilliantly, ‘Uh, what?’

Jean’s lips curved up as they pressed softly against Jeremy’s again.

‘If I stay any longer, I’ll have to take your clothes off,’ he murmured. His voice was so deep and sexy, and did nothing in the way of encouraging Jeremy to let him go. ‘You’re almost irresistible right now; I need to go while I’m still in control of my senses.’

The words brushed Jean’s lips against Jeremy’s. It turned the kiss into something deep, and they were lost again for a few minutes more.

‘Irresistible,’ Jean repeated, sounding significantly less in control now. ‘Will you let me go?’

Jeremy caressed his face. With his other hand, he took Jean’s and placed it over his own heart. Looking deep into his eyes, he said, ‘Only if you’ll come back to stay.’

Jean held his gaze for a very long minute. Then he leaned in and kissed him again, so softly Jeremy barely felt it.

‘Yes,’ he whispered, his lips pressing the words to Jeremy’s skin. ‘I will.’

Like a pair of newborn deer, they got up wobbled to the front door. Once there, Jean swept him in for another kiss and then pressed their foreheads together for a very long, shaky moment.

‘Bye,’ whispered Jeremy, because one of them had to be strong and it looked like Jean was losing the race at the last hurdle. He patted the walkie talkie sticking out of Jean’s pocket as a reminder.

‘Bye,’ Jean replied, kissing him one last time. Jeremy held back when he tried to go in for another, and they both laughed quietly.

And after he’d gone, Jeremy went and got a blanket and slept on the couch for the night, burrowing down into the memory of their love.

 

Jeremy slept the sleep of the truly content (and exhausted). When he woke up he went straight for his phone. It was dead, because he’d fallen asleep on the couch and hadn’t plugged it in like normal. His whole routine was off; he laughed at himself, feeling warm and fuzzy, and climbed into bed with his blanket and waited for his phone to turn back on.

There were two messages from Jean, sent at 6:30am. That was early even for him.

 

 **Jean:** 1\. Last night was amazing and you’re amazing.

 

 **Jean:** 2\. Are you throwing up by any chance

 

The second one was a little strange, but Jeremy’s heart was fluttering at the sight of Jean’s name and the words _you’re amazing_ , so he didn’t think too hard about it.

 

 **Jeremy:** 1\. I really really like you and want to do that again asap

 

 **Jeremy:** 2\. Definitely not throwing up (pls explain)

 

It was just after 11. Jean wasn’t always the quickest at texting back on days when he had Madeleine, so Jeremy left his phone on his other pillow and slipped into a contented doze. However, its soft vibration woke him up just a few minutes later.

 

 **Jean:** Maddie sick since 3am. No fever but constant puking. Some distress.

 

Jeremy sat up in bed, comfort gone. Madeleine, sick? She’d been fine all evening. Was it something she ate? Jeremy’s hands and feet went cold as he thought of his cookies as the culprit. It was unlikely, since neither he nor Jean was sick, but he didn’t know what else to think.

 

 **Jeremy:** Oh no! That’s awful, poor baby. How do you feel? Can I help?

 

 **Jean** : I just need to keep her hydrated and quarantined. Probably just a 24 hr thing. She’s never been sick before - bit of a shock for her. I’m fine, apart from being out of coffee.

 

 **Jeremy:** I can get coffee. Anything else you need?

 

 **Jean:** Don’t go to any trouble x

 

 **Jeremy:** Please let me help!! I’m worried about her too x

 

 **Jean:** She’ll be fine. But … ok. Thanks. Coffee would be great. Also ginger ale and saltines. Please. Thank you x

 

 **Jeremy:** anything for you two <3

 

At the store he picked up some things he needed himself, then got crackers and coffee and two large bottles of ginger ale in case anyone else got sick too. Thinking about poor Madeleine sill in bed had him wandering around the store in a morose daze. He found a cute pink sippy cup with glittery flowers on it, and a soft pink throw patterned with - gasp - unicorns. Perfect gifts for a sick baby. For _his_ sick baby.

Jeremy wasn’t too hurt by Jean’s resistance to his help. He’d been thinking about it; Jean was used to doing everything all by himself, and all other offers of help born out of politeness rather than genuine desire. It might just take him a little bit of time to adjust to having a kind-of partner.

Jeremy put all the Moreau’s stuff into a gift bag when he got home, and then went to knock on their door.

‘Who is it?’ Jean’s voice came through the door.

‘Christopher Robin,’ Jeremy called back cheerfully. ‘I come bearing gifts.’

A muffled laugh. ‘Thank you,’ Jean replied. ‘But you can’t come in. Full quarantine.’

‘Well, I don’t see a delivery entrance,’ Jeremy replied. He hadn’t thought Jean was actually serious about not letting him in.

‘Just - leave them there, and I’ll come out and get them.’

Jeremy wrinkled his nose. ‘Seriously?’

Jean sighed. ‘I’m sorry, I know you probably feel like a delivery boy.’

‘Please. Delivery _man._ ’

‘I just … You can’t get sick too. I mean, I probably will. Maddie uses my toothbrush whenever she feels like it. But if you get it too then it just means we’ll have to wait even longer.’

Jeremy felt a smile creeping across his face. ‘Wait longer for what?’

Jean didn’t answer right away, and Jeremy smothered a laugh at his very deliberate silence.

‘Jean,’ he went on, teasing. ‘What is it that you want to do that we have to be in good health and shape for?’

‘Just leave the bag and go.’

Jeremy laughed gently. ‘Alright,’ he agreed. ‘Ok. Tell Madeleine I hope she feels better.’

‘I will.’

‘And that I love her.’

‘I’ll tell her that too.’ Jean had a hint of a smile in his voice now.

‘And …’ Jeremy paused. Jean paused too.

‘And what?’ he said, after a few moments.

Jeremy shook his head, even though Jean couldn’t see him. ‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.

‘Please do,’ Jean replied seriously. ‘Is it weird if I say I miss you?’

Jeremy leaned his head against the door. ‘I don’t think it’s weird,’ he said. ‘I gotta admit, I’m feeling kinda attached to you after last night.’

Jeremy hoped Jean’s silence meant that he was blushing.

‘Jean?’

Jean sighed so loudly it was completely audible through the door. ‘God, my daughter has terrible timing,’ he mourned. Then he paused. ‘Oh dear. I’m needed urgently.’

‘Oh no, go help her,’ Jeremy said hurriedly. ‘I’ll leave the stuff.’

‘Thanks. Call you later!’ Jean’s voice was already fading as he moved away from the door.

Jeremy left the bag on the floor, but left his own ajar until Jean collected the bag in case creepy doll man from 4A decided to come poking around. There was always one mail-stealer on each floor, and Jeremy’s list of suspects was very short.

Jeremy had had so many other plans for this day, and none of them had involved being alone. When no texts or calls from Jean were forthcoming he hauled himself out of his apartment and went to find some of his friends before he went crazy. He did lunch with Alvarez and listened to her cry about Laila not calling her back last night, and then he went and broke down Laila’s door and found her crying in bed because she didn’t think Alvarez was into her anymore.

‘You are truly the most useless lesbian I’ve ever met,’ Jeremy said critically, standing over her. ‘Ok, move over.’

He climbed into bed beside her and passed her the box of tissues. She looked very sweet in her kitten pyjamas with her hair in two pigtails, even when her eyes were red and sad.

‘Why didn’t you call her back, you silly thing?’ he asked gently, patting her shoulder.

‘Because she only thinks she wants me,’ Laila said sadly. ‘I know her, Jeremy. She feels intimidated by me. She likes the idea of being brave enough to date someone like me, but she’s not really into me.’

Jeremy frowned. ‘What makes you think that?’

Laila gestured with a dangerously soggy crumpled tissue. ‘Because! Like, she never wants to cuddle or do girlfriend stuff. It’s just like being friends except we hold hands sometimes and like, _occasionally_ kiss.’

That didn’t sound too good. ‘Maybe she’s shy,’ he suggested. ‘Or she could be nervous.’

‘Or she could be not into me,’ Laila finished grimly.

Jeremy sighed. He scooped Laila’s donut cushion up and gave it an experimental squeeze. Madeleine might like something like this for her room. ‘You know,’ he said. ‘I just had lunch with Alvarez and she was all torn up about how you wouldn’t call her back.’

Laila just shrugged. ‘Yeah, so? We’re in a fight. Of course she’s upset. But what kind of a relationship is it if she won’t touch me?’

Jeremy gave her a very stern look. ‘The kind you have to talk to her about. What kind of a friend are you if you just make assumptions about her like this?’

Laila gave him a very hard look, and then relented. ‘Fine, I’ll talk to her,’ she muttered, looking a bit shamefaced. ‘But you know, it’s real easy to critique other people’s relationships. I mean, how’s yours coming along?’

Jeremy held the donut closer. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, defensive.

Laila raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you boning that DILF yet?’

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. ‘Ok, for one thing, please don’t call him that ever again.’ He was appalled to hear Jean referred to in such crass terms (even though _oh my god that’s what he is._ ) ‘And no. We’re not doing that. Yet.’

Laila grinned at him. ‘Busy schedule?’

Jeremy and Laila had always indiscriminately dished the details of their sex lives together, but for some reason he didn’t feel right discussing Jean like that.

He shrugged. ‘Kind of. I mean, I work nights and he works days. And Madeleine is a full time job.’ He sighed. ‘I wish he’d let me help more with her. I feel like such a lemming sitting over in my apartment while they’re next door having fun.’

‘It’s probably not all playtime though, right?’ Laila asked, frowning. ‘I mean she’s four. She probably gets all hyper and Jean has to yell at her so he can get some work done.’

‘Jean doesn’t yell,’ Jeremy muttered. ‘And I know it’s not all fun and games. I’m not afraid of that. I just … want to help. I wanna help her draw and dance and learn about the world.’

Laila gave him a little shove. ‘Jeremy, when did you get so broody,’ she teased. ‘It sounds like you want to be all domestic and shit with them.’

Jeremy smiled weakly. ‘Is that weird?’

Laila raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, I guess to me it is. But I’m not the one who loves them. So what do I know?’

Jeremy blinked at her. ‘Wow, it really is easy to comment on other people’s relationships.’

Laila smiled sadly at him. ‘See? Now you can wallow with me.’

But Jeremy refused to wallow. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘You’re going to call your girlfriend, and I’m going to call my - ’

‘DILF?’

Jeremy bashed her over the head with the donut. ‘Never say that again,’ he ranted, as Laila squealed and fell beneath the onslaught. ‘You’re a terrible person.’

‘Should I start calling you daddy?’ Laila fired back, trying to kick him. ‘Or would you prefer papa?’

‘He’s papa,’ Jeremy said, unthinkingly, then bitterly regretted it when Laila shrieked and pounced on him.

He left her only after she’d dialled Alvarez’s number. And even then, he waited in the hallway to make sure neither of them chickened out. It didn’t help him with his own problem, but it felt good to do something productive for someone else.

Jeremy considered a few other friends he could call, but realised he’d exhausted his supply of people he actually wanted to talk to already. So he wandered home, stopping to pick up some groceries that he’d forgotten in his pursuit of ginger ale and fluffy blankets. Then he remembered he had to do laundry and call the phone company and take out the trash and sew that button back on to his shirt, and about a million other things that he seemed to forget these days. His single life felt like a half life. He felt like he was only marking time until … something. Maybe he should make a lasagne for Jean. He just wanted to _do_ something for him.

Jeremy pottered around at home doing chores and trying to keep busy, but when an invitation came to go out to dinner with some friends that evening he declined. He knew where he wanted to be. It would feel very weird to be out socialising while Madeleine was at home sick. Sure it wasn’t his home, and she wasn’t his child, but the feelings were still there.

No call came. Jeremy sent a few texts but Jean must have been too busy with Maddie to reply. It made him worry, and he went to bed feeling a little anxious.

When he woke up in the morning he did have a reply, to his enormous relief.

 

 **Jean:** Sorry I didn’t call. M exhausted, kept waking up to puke. Fell asleep on my lap around midnight. Think the worst is over. Germs everywhere so you’re still banned (sorry). I miss you x

 

There was also a photo attached. Maddie was asleep with her head pillowed on Jean’s thigh - to Jeremy’s delight, he saw that she was wrapped in her new pink blanket. Her tiny little face was pale and exhausted, and her hair was a raggedy mess. Jeremy could see Jean’s hand resting protectively on her body. This also told him that Jean hadn’t changed his clothes since the other night. Jeremy’s heart twisted for them both.

Jean had added a caption:

 

 **Jean:** She loves her new blanket and sippy cup from her “best friend Jeremy”. You’re some kind of wonderful

 

Jeremy sent his own replies, but wasn’t surprised when no further texts were forthcoming. He got himself up and dressed and into work, and was just settling into a comforting rhythm of polishing his fifth glass of the afternoon when Dan bustled in carrying a large wrapped square.

‘What’s that?’ Jeremy asked curiously, following her progress through the bar. She was heading to the grotto, which Jeremy had been looking at guiltily all afternoon. He had a little post-it note with his and Jean’s names on it folded a dozen times in his back pocket, and he felt like Dan knew it.

‘A gift,’ Dan replied, winking at him. She was wearing a white t-shirt with a long message on the front; Jeremy was distracted by trying to read it all, and didn’t immediately notice what she was attempting to hang on the wall.

When he did, all the blood in his body rushed straight to his face.

‘Dan!’ he exclaimed furiously. ‘Where did you get that?’

Dan stepped back proudly from her newest possession. It fit in very nicely on the wall; the deep red brick and faded flowers, the letters and napkins and photographs tucked into the cracks and pegged on to fairy lights. The dark colours were similar; from here, Jean’s naked torso looked almost religious.

‘Is this a dig at me?’ he demanded, as Dan approached him with a big shit-eating grin on her face.

‘How dare you suggest I bought this out of anything other than love of art?’ she admonished him, leaning on the bar. ‘Jean said he’d do me a very good deal on the painting of my choice, as further thanks for the exhibition.’

Jeremy privately thought that Dan was too good a businesswoman sometimes. She made bank on that exhibition, and hadn’t done any of the work.

‘And you just had to choose that one,’ Jeremy said. ‘Couldn’t have gone for any of the others.’

Dan shrugged. ‘Well, I’m sure the topless chick would have drawn more of a crowd but I likes what I likes, you know?’

‘Well at least you’re being true to yourself,’ Jeremy said, smiling tightly at her. ‘So, is there anything else? Or did you drop by just to bother me?’

Dan gave him a winning smile. ‘I do have one more thing I wanted to give you.’ She fished around in her back pocket and handed him a small piece of blue folded card. Jeremy took it from her curiously, and snorted when he opened it.

‘Right, ok,’ he said, sliding the piece of paper back towards her. ‘Enough of this, please.’

‘What?’ Dan protested. ‘That’s surely a hickey on your neck. What else am I to assume?’

Jeremy reflexively put his hand over the mark Jean had left on his neck. He felt rather fond of it, and couldn’t bring himself to be ashamed, but Dan’s leer was fairly intimidating.

‘You could assume to mind your own business?’ he suggested. Under Dan’s pointed stare, he relented. ‘Fine. I already have one of those.’

He took out his own little piece of paper with his and Jean’s names carefully written on it. He didn’t hand it over, but held on to it with a rueful smile.

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ’I feel like I might be jumping the gun.’

Dan shrugged. ‘You don’t have to propose,’ she said. ‘The grotto isn’t that serious, Jeremy. Just stick it up there and don’t tell him. You’ll feel better.’

Jeremy sent her off with vague assurances that he probably would think about maybe doing it. But he let the rest of the day pass without taking the note from his pocket.

Madeleine wasn’t judged well enough to be officially “not sick” until Sunday morning, at which point Jeremy had gone two and a half days without seeing either of them, and was officially fed up of it.

‘Can I come over?’ he asked Jean excitedly over the phone. ‘Or we can go out to lunch? Get Maddie something light and gentle and us something extravagant?’

Jean laughed. ‘Ah, food,’ he said, reminiscent. ‘It’s been so long since we’ve had it. She’s in the tub right now but I think we could do lunch.’ He paused, and there was sounds of nearby splashing. ‘She says hi,’ he added.

Jeremy grinned. ‘Tell her I say hi too,’ he said. ‘And that I miss her.’

‘Maddie,’ Jean said. ‘Jeremy says he misses you.’ Another pause. ‘She misses you too. She also apologises for her quiet voice - her throat is a little bit sore, for obvious reasons.’

Jeremy winced. ‘Poor little baby,’ he murmured.

Jean made a little noise of annoyance. ‘Your little baby keeps splashing me,’ he grumbled. Jeremy heart shivered happily, even more so when he heard Madeleine’s tiny giggle.

It was still pretty early for Jeremy, and he’d need a significant amount of coffee to be ready for the fun. He muddled around in pyjamas for a while and Yelped some good kid-friendly brunch places in the area. He had a neat shortlist drawn up and was on his second cup of coffee, dressed and ready to go, when he heard a tiny tap on the front door.

Jeremy leapt to answer it, recognising that delicate knock anywhere. When he saw Madeleine standing on his doormat with a big smile on her face he wanted to cheer.

‘Hello!’ he exclaimed. ‘The patient has survived!’

Madeleine raised her arms and Jeremy swung her straight up into his. Madeleine was a very particular about her hugs, but a swing around in the air from Jeremy upon first greeting was always welcome.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he murmured into her hair. She smelled very strongly of strawberries. ‘Are you sure I can spin you around? You’re not gonna puke on me, are you?’

Madeleine laughed and poked his nose. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But Papa might.’

Jeremy frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ Then he blinked. ‘Hey, where is your papa?’

Madeleine pointed back down the hall. ‘Puking.’

Out of respect for Jean’s privacy and delicate self-confidence, Jeremy didn’t go into the bathroom. Instead, he shouted at him from the front door to a) ascertain that Madeleine was ok to leave the house, b) to assure him that she would be ok and he would keep her all day, and c) to make sure that Jean would not choke on vomit and die while they were out. He censored this last appropriately, even though Madeleine didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

‘Fine, fine,’ Jean croaked at them. ‘Just - text me. Regularly. Please.’ The rest was lost to painful retching. Jeremy felt like a traitor leaving him there alone, but both Moreau’s were quite insistent.

‘Come on, Jeremy,’ Maddie said, tugging on his hand. ‘I’m ready, look! Packed my bag.’

She had indeed packed her own little backpack. It contained Ballerina Tigger, her walkie talkie, a _Winnie the Pooh_ book, a spare key to their apartment so Jeremy could let them back in later (likely Jean’s idea) and a pair of men’s sunglasses.

‘Very good, Maddie,’ he enthused, once he’d gotten her safely into his apartment.

‘I picked my clothes too. Papa told me to _make_ _good choices_ ,’ she informed him, hilariously mocking Jean’s accent. She was, incidentally, wearing her favourite pair of pink shorts and her green t-shirt with the dinosaur on it that Jeremy had heard Jean tell her repeatedly was just for bedtime.

Jeremy fingered a lock of her well-brushed hair. ‘You wanna leave it like this?’ he asked. He’d never seen Madeleine leave her hair down when they went out. It had a tendency to blow all over her face.

Madeleine shook her head to clear her face. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how to tie it up.’

‘Want me to show you?’

Madeleine nodded eagerly. ‘And can I see your room too?’ she asked.

Jeremy let her look around his room while he rummaged around in his dresser, eventually turning up a hairbrush and some hair ties, probably left over from one of Laila or Alvarez’s sleepovers. ‘Ok, c’mere,’ he said, sitting down on the bed and beckoning her over. She was examining something on his locker but trotted over obediently.

‘Can you braid it like Papa does?’ she asked, bouncing slightly on the bed.

‘Well, I can’t do them exactly like that,’ Jeremy said. ‘But … I can do a backwards one?’

‘Whassat?’

Jeremy showed her a picture on his phone of a herringbone braid, which he learned to do on his sisters. She was sufficiently impressed, and permitted him to braid the long length of her hair into a neat twist.

‘You like it?’ Jeremy asked, when he’d finished. It had been an incredibly therapeutic and relaxing experience for him.

Madeleine ran her hand over the brain, smiling. ‘I like the feeling,’ she said. ‘It’s weird. Thank you.’ Then she pointed to his locker, where she’d been poking around before. ‘What’s that stuff for?’

Jeremy followed her finger. ‘What stuff?’

Madeleine scrambled over the bed. ‘This,’ she said, her pointy finger an inch away from the small tube of glitter Jeremy had left there by mistake.

Jeremy lay across the bed to join her. ‘It’s glitter,’ he said.

‘What’s it for?’ Madeleine pressed.

‘Sometimes I wear it,’ he told her.

‘ _Where?_ ’

A little glitter and petroleum jelly alone Madeleine’s hair parting had her spinning circles in front of Jeremy’s mirror with a delighted look on her face.

‘Let’s take a photo for papa,’ Jeremy said, holding up his phone. Madeleine posed obediently with a pretty smile, then stuck out her tongue and pulled a face at him.

‘You’re definitely feeling better,’ Jeremy remarked, grinning at her. Madeleine nodded, looking full of life. ‘You ready for some fun?’

They raced down the hall and chattered their way down the stairs. Jeremy was full of excitement at all the possibilities the day now held for them, but when they reached the street he suddenly grabbed Madeleine’s hand. No Jean around. No second pair of eyes. He wouldn’t be able to even glance away from her. As they stood there, Maddie looking at him curiously, at least 6 people rushed by them, almost bumping into them. Maddie ducked and dodged like a pro, but Jeremy was paralysed with anxiety. Would Madeleine hate him if he made them go back inside?

‘C’mon Jeremy!’ Madeleine had made his decision for him by pulling her hand away and skipping off down the path towards the station. Jeremy rushed after her in fright, seeing oncoming cars and wild dogs and predators behind ever trash can.

The entire walk to the station was chaos; Jeremy was so panicked he was tripping over his own feet. Maddie didn’t seem to notice anything amiss; she was so enthused to be feeling better and out in the sunshine headed towards fun that she only had eyes for that horizon. 

Once they were at the station and sitting on the train, Jeremy was able to get them both settled. He was still side-eyeing everyone who came within three feet of his charge, but she was swinging her feet and so sweetly interested in their fellow commuters that he managed to get distracted by her.

‘Where do you wanna go first?’ he asked her.

Maddie fished around in her bag and brought out her book. ‘It’s from the library,’ she explained. ‘Papa was supposed to return it, but then I got sick. So it’s late.’ She looked up at Jeremy worriedly. ‘I have to bring it back.’

Jeremy was fairly sure Maddie had no idea what would happen if it didn’t go back on time.

‘Well, that’s ok,’ he said gently, taking the book from her to check the stamp. ‘The library’s real close. In fact, lets get off at the next stop.’

They trotted into the library together, where Madeleine revealed that she was far smarter than Jeremy by remembering to produce her library card.

‘You don’t need it to return books, dear,’ the lady smiled at her, taking her book. There was no mention of retribution for the late return.

‘I need to get a new one,’ Madeleine informed her, glancing at Jeremy like _duh_.

They browsed the shelves together. Maddie seemed to be quite content to browse the kids section herself, so Jeremy pretended to be perusing the travel shelves while he secretly watched her like a hawk.

 

 **Jeremy:** At the library. M considering her options very carefully. Next up: healthy snacks. Hope you’re feeling better xxx

 

He tucked his phone away before he could start counting the minutes that meant Jean was clearly too sick to reply.

‘Done!’ Madeleine had returned holding a new book. Jeremy looked at the cover with interest.

‘ _Matilda._ ’ He smiled at her. ’A very good choice.’

‘What’s it about?’ she asked. ‘I can’t read.’

Feeling deeply content, Jeremy sat down on one of the little couches with Madeleine and read the first chapter to her. He didn’t want to go too far - what if this was one that Jean wanted to read to her? - But then a tiny part of him wondered if this might be something he and Madeleine did together, just the two of them. This was a small, quiet thought, and he really liked the sound of it.

‘You wanna go get lunch now?’ he asked Madeleine, after they’d finished chapter one. Maddie initially looked torn between finding out more about Matilda and continuing on with their adventure, but slithered off the couch with good grace and held out her hand for the book.

‘I have to check it out,’ she said seriously. Jeremy followed her and watched with a huge smile on his face as she went through the short process of checking out a book from the library. The librarian, obviously familiar with her, asked her how her father was.

‘He’s sick,’ Madeleine answered. ‘Jeremy’s minding me.’

The librarian glanced up at Jeremy, mildly suspicious. Jeremy supposed he could have been a kidnapper, but kidnappers didn’t usually take their victims to the local library.

‘Jeremy’s my Papa’s best friend,’ Madeleine went on proudly, melting both Jeremy’s heart and the librarian’s.

‘Well aren’t you lucky to have two people who will take you to the library and read you stories,’ the librarian said with a more apologetic smile in Jeremy’s direction.

‘Maybe when we all live together we can go here, like all three of us at the same time,’ Madeleine finished, taking the book from the lady and putting it carefully into her bag. Jeremy blinked as he processed what Madeleine had said, but couldn’t summon up any words until they were out in the sunshine again.

‘Uhh, hey Maddie?’ he asked tentatively. ‘What did you mean when you said that about us all living together?’

Madeleine squinted up at him, but didn’t answer. Jeremy didn’t think it was fair to ask her to explain.

‘Well, we can talk about it later,’ he said quickly. ‘Wanna go feed some ducks?’

They took the train into the city, all the way to Central Park. Jeremy bought them some little bags of nuts and seeds and they went in search of ducks. Jeremy was glad he brought his satchel because Madeleine was doing her usual magpie act. By the time they reached the nearest flock of ducks she’d already collected a blueish pebble, a large yellow flower (likely a weed), and, interestingly enough, a cassette tape with a sticker labelled “Lou Reed + The Stranglers”.

‘Whassat?’

‘It’s a relic,’ Jeremy told her. ‘A very old thing. Do you want to keep it?’

Madeleine nodded, mumbling ‘Show Papa’, before ambling off again.

Duck feeding was a huge success. These seemed - to Madeleine at least - like far more exotic and interesting ducks than the ones back in Queens.

‘Don’t get too close, sweetheart,’ Jeremy said anxiously, as she bravely held out her seed-filled palm to the biggest one. Why did she always go for the biggest one?

But Madeleine had spotted something in the grass. She hopped over towards it, edging ever closer to the water. Jeremy’s heart leapt into his mouth.

‘Madeleine, come back!’ he exclaimed, barrelling through the ducks. She bent over just by the water, hand outstretched; Jeremy got his arms around her and wrenched her up into the air before she could topple.

‘Madeleine!’ he gasped, holding her tightly. ‘Sweetheart -didn’t you hear me calling you?’

Madeleine finally seemed to realise she was in trouble, and wilted under his gaze.

‘Sorry,’ she said, looking abashed. It was the same kind of look she gave Jean when she nearly tripped him up in the kitchen.

Jeremy sighed, then gave her a squeeze. ‘It’s alright,’ he said. ‘Now you’ve gotta show me what was so important.’

Madeleine opened her hand, and Jeremy’s jaw dropped.

‘Maddie,’ he said, looking at her with a grin. ‘Do you know what that is?’

She shook her head, eyes wide.

‘It’s somebody’s diamond ring.’

Jeremy wasn’t a hundred per cent sure if they were real diamonds or not, but it weighed a ton and certainly sparkled enough. Together they walked it down to the nearest police station, where Maddie got to meet several police officers and tell them her name and age and where she found the ring. The policeman even pretended to take a statement, nodding importantly and asking her questions, while Jeremy quietly filled out a form behind her.

‘Well, that was exciting,’ he commented, as they exited the police station. He felt like a filler episode in a buddy cop show. ‘Where to next?’

They both agreed that lunch had to come next, so Jeremy took her to his favourite vegetarian restaurant and ordered them soup and brown bread and let her talk herself breathless about the police station and everything they’d seen there. Jeremy snapped a photo of her for Jean as she slathered butter on to her bread.

‘Was it an engagement ring?’ she asked, halfway through her soup. Jeremy looked at her, amused.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Maddie, do you know what “engagement” means?’

Maddie munched a crust of her bread. ‘Does it mean married?’ she asked.

‘It means you’re going to be married,’ Jeremy told her.

Maddie nodded, going for her spoon again. ‘My Papa’s not married,’ she said conversationally.

‘Mmhmm.’

‘Are you going to marry him?’

Jeremy closed his eyes briefly, trying to decide how to deal with this one.

There was nothing crafty about Madeleine; she was all innocence. Jeremy decided to be honest.

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Abbey says that people marry their best friends,’ Maddie explained. ‘That she married um - Mr ummm … her husband. Because he was her best friend.’

‘Well, some people do,’ Jeremy said cautiously. ‘But a person can have lots of best friends. People usually get married when they’ve fallen in love with someone. Like in _Beauty and the Beast.’_

Madeleine digested this quietly for a few moments while Jeremy slurped his soup and tried to think about how to steer Madeleine away from this line of interrogation.

‘Well, you and Papa can be in love then,’ she decided finally. ‘And then we can live together, and you won’t have to come over for dinner because we can just HAVE dinner and you’ll be there!’

‘Oh, I think you’d get very tired of me if you saw me every day,’ Jeremy grinned at her.

‘No I wouldn’t!’

‘Yes, you would. I’m very boring, really. And I’ll make you eat your vegetables and go to bed on time.’

Madeleine was giggling. ‘But Papa already does that,’ she said, waggling her spoon at him. ‘You’re the same!’

It was nice to know that he appeared to have Madeleine’s blessing, in some shape or form.

Jeremy watched Madeleine carefully after lunch, just in case the food wasn’t going down well. But she seemed fine, skipping along beside him and holding a pinwheel he’d bought her outside Central Park. She blew on it every few steps to get it spinning; the colours reflected on her smiling face and her glittery hair.

‘Have you ever been to the Empire State Building?’ Jeremy asked her.

‘Whassat?’

So they hopped on the train again, where Madeleine delighted a pair of baby twins sitting opposite them by spinning the pinwheel in their faces. The babies cackled with laughter like it was the best thing they’d ever seen, and shrieked after her when Jeremy had to drag her off the train.

‘Babies are weird,’ commented Madeleine. (“Weird” was Madeleine’s new word).

‘You’re still a baby to me,’ Jeremy told her. She whacked him with the pinwheel.

Jeremy made her tuck it inside his satchel when they went up to the observation deck, just in case the wind snatched it away. At the top, Madeleine insisted on running to every lookout point to get the very best view, and they took many photos for Jean. So far, Jeremy had kept him updated with photos and text of all their locations. He’d left out the police station one though - probably better to explain in person first.

He hadn’t gotten any replies. Jean hadn’t read the last two yet. That was unusual for him. Jeremy hoped he was just sleeping.

The one problem he’d had all day was bathrooms. When it was just a single stall he could stand outside holding the door closed (Madeleine had trouble with locks sometimes) but the bathrooms in the Empire State building were multiple cubicles. Jeremy couldn’t go in, but no way was he bringing her into the men’s. He dithered outside while Madeleine wobbled around with her legs crossed before he finally caught sight of a mother and daughter combo heading for the ladies.

‘Excuse me,’ he said, flagging them down and hoping he didn’t look like a weirdo. ‘My - uh - she needs to use the toilet.’ He gestured to the desperate Madeleine. ‘I can’t bring her - would you mind - ?’

The woman nodded immediately. ‘Sure, I’ll watch her,’ she said airily, chivvying Madeleine along with her bored-looking daughter. Maddie, naturally, didn’t even blink - Jeremy caught her racing towards the stalls. But once the door swung shut and she was out of his sight, he panicked. Clearly he’d done the wrong thing. He’d sent her off into a room with _strangers_. He couldn’t go in - he’d be run out of the place - but he’d never known such cold panic. He clutched his phone and her backpack and held his breath - and finally, she emerged, rubbing her hands dry on her shorts, flyaway strands of her soft curls springing up around her head, sparkling with the glitter she’d obviously been scratching around.

Jeremy’s heart felt so full of love for her at that moment he thought he might explode.

‘There’s your daddy,’ the woman said, pointing at him. ‘Take care now.’

Madeleine waved to her and then skipped over to Jeremy. She seemed confused when he couldn’t speak.

‘Can I have my pinwheel back please Jeremy,’ she asked, holding out her hand for it. Jeremy finally made his limbs work and gave it back to her; he rubbed her soft head and let his hand rest there for a moment, feeling finally coming back into his arms and legs as he registered that she was safe.

While she was definitely vomit-free again, Madeleine was clearly still getting over the more arduous effects of her stomach bug. Now she walked holding Jeremy’s hand, and her pinwheel-blowing had ceased. She was still happy to amble along, but Jeremy thought that a little sit-down might be in order.

‘Where next?’ she asked, looking up at him with complete trust. Jeremy had to deliver.

‘You wanna go see a movie?’

The Gold Theatre was always showing old movies, sometimes kids stuff. It was a little late in the day for children’s movies, but to Jeremy’s delight they were just in time for a showing of _Mulan_

‘Have you seen this one before?’ he asked Madeleine.

‘No,’ Madeleine replied, looking at the poster with interest. ‘What’s it about?’

Jeremy smiled at her. ‘Do you want to find out?’

He got her a small popcorn and a bottle of water, and a soda for himself. He filched handfuls of popcorn while the theatre filled up, and Madeleine seemed to be quite comfortable making Ballerina Tigger dance over the back of the seat in front of her. The light was low, but he still took a picture for Jean.

Madeleine was a little restless when the lights went down, shuffling around in her seat and looking around her. Jeremy set the popcorn aside and let her climb into his lap for a better view. Ballerina Tigger was taking up much of his own.

Maddie swung her legs and hummed along for the first fifteen minutes or so, but when Mulan reached the army camp she suddenly went still. Jeremy had a brief moment of panic that she was going to puke, but after she maintained that slightly leaning-forward pose for a few more scenes, Jeremy had to ask

‘Are you ok?’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Yes!’ was her excited reply.

‘Ok.’ He paused. ‘Are you enjoying the movie?’

‘ _YES.’_

Madeleine couldn’t whisper for shit, but Jeremy didn’t care. He sat back with a satisfied smile and enjoyed the rest of the movie. He had to catch Ballerina Tigger a few times as Maddie lost her grip on him in excitement, but otherwise it couldn’t have been a bigger success. Madeleine pretended to sword fight the whole way out of the theatre, pausing only to be escorted to the bathroom by a friendly group of girls. Once she emerged, the sword was out again. Jeremy pretended to die by her blade many times between the theatre and the nearest station.

‘I was thinking of making some soup for your papa,’ Jeremy said, as he recovered from his sixth “death”. ‘You wanna come to the grocery store and help me?’

Madeleine paused in the act of firing an arrow. ‘Ok,’ she said. ‘Can we make dinner for us too?’

Jeremy nodded, tugging gently on the end of her braid. ‘Sounds good.’

Back in Queens, they went to Jeremy’s preferred grocery store and loaded up on veggies and other healthy dinner-making items. Jeremy also picked up another bottle of ginger ale, just in case. Madeleine was definitely starting to droop - she’d snuck some of Jeremy’s soda and the sugar rush had sustained her through many a sword fight on their journey, but now the battle was won and she wanted to go home.

‘When we get in, how about you take a little break on the couch?’ Jeremy asked her gently, as they ambled along the sidewalk. It was a beautiful evening, balmy and warm, and Jeremy had a bag of groceries in one hand and Maddie’s hand in the other.

‘Kay,’ she said easily. ‘Watch History channel.’ Then she paused. ‘Will you read me more _Matilda_ for bedtime story, please?’

Quarantine be damned, Jeremy thought.

Using Jean’s key, they let themselves into 4D. Jeremy had been bracing himself for an odour of sickness, but they both recoiled from the almost overwhelming smell of bleach.

‘Uh, whassat?’ Madeleine asked, wrinkling her nose.

‘Your papa has been cleaning,’ Jeremy said, frowning in the direction of Jean’s bedroom. ‘When he should have been resting.’

Madeleine wasn’t that interested in saying hello to Jean - she went straight to the couch with Ballerina Tigger and started looking through the illustrations of her new book. Jeremy left the groceries in the kitchen and then went quietly to look in on Jean.

The bedroom was in darkness, with the curtains drawn. Jean was lying on top of the covers, curled up into an impossibly small form. There was a red basin on the floor beside the bed, but Jeremy could see it was clean and empty.

Jean was stirring; he had heard them come in. As Jeremy watched, his head raised up slightly and he mumbled, ‘Maddie?’

‘She’s fine,’ Jeremy smiled. ‘Hi, we’re home.’

Jean seemed a bit confused by this; his bleary expression tugged on Jeremy’s heartstrings, and he couldn’t say away. He perched on the bed beside Jean and reached out to feel his forehead.

‘You’re ok,’ he murmured softly, stroking his hair back. He was a little warm, but it was a warm evening. No fever.

‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ Jean said hoarsely. But his lips quirked into a smile as he slanted a glance up at Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged. ‘I’ll take that risk,’ he said lightly. He leaned over Jean’s body so he could get a little closer, and Jean rolled on to his back slightly so they were more or less face to face.

‘You looked after her all day,’ Jean said, gazing up at him. ‘Did you mind?’

Jeremy thought he must be delusional still.

‘Jean,’ he said softly. ‘I love her. Any day that I get to spend time with her is a good day.’

Jean didn’t know what to say to this. After a few moments, Jeremy said sternly, ‘And you were supposed to be resting.’

‘I was,’ protested Jean.

‘Jean, the whole apartment smells like a hospital ward,’ Jeremy smiled.

‘It’s better than the alternative.’

They spent a few more minutes just enjoying each other’s company. Jean pulled Jeremy down beside him, and Jeremy didn’t care if he was sick for a week after this. Jean was clearly exhausted, starting to drift off after a while, until Madeleine’s high little voice disturbed them as she chirped to herself in her bedroom.

‘So what did you do today?’ Jean asked him, smiling slightly.

Jeremy shifted his position slightly, reaching out to touch Jean’s jaw. ‘You have a complete photo record of our day on your phone, so I won’t spoil anything for you. However, highlights include a new book from the library and a trip to the movies.’

‘What did you see?’

From her bedroom, Madeleine’s voice sang out in as deep a tone as she could manage, ‘ _Be a man._ ’

They both stifled laughs, Jean’s eyes creasing up as he turned his head into the pillow.

‘That’s the only line from the movie she remembers,’ Jeremy confessed. ‘And I think she now might be interested in taking up sword fighting. Sorry about that.’

‘Ah, it was bound to happen,’ Jean sighed. ‘She’s got that dangerous side to her.’

‘Jeremy,’ Madeleine’s voice called out, sounding slightly whiney. ‘When are we making the - um, the thing?’

‘The thing?’ Jean questioned.

‘Dinner.’ Jeremy smiled at him, then raised his voice slightly. ‘Maddie, do you want to come see Papa?’

Madeleine was already loitering outside the bedroom door; Jean rolled over as she poked her head in.

‘Why are you in bed?’ she asked. ‘It’s before dinnertime.’

‘Papa’s still sick, sweetheart,’ Jeremy reminded her, as Jean held out his hand for her. Maddie skipped over and took it easily, giving Jean a big smile and then a rapid-fire summary of the day’s events.

‘Wait, go back to the police station,’ Jean said quickly, but Madeleine was already racing on through her story, culminating with grocery shopping and running into one of Mr 4A’s weird dolls in the hallway.

‘Sounds like a busy day,’ Jean said. ‘Did you have fun?’

‘Lots and lots of fun!’ Madeleine enthused. ‘But - you’re supposed to sleep now, and we’re supposed to make soup. So - ‘ She held her hand out for Jeremy, who had his arm loosely around Jean’s waist and was smiling into his shoulder. ‘Jeremy, come _on_.’

‘Duty calls,’ he murmured to Jean. For once, Jean didn’t apologise or say something like “you don’t have to”. Madeleine hustled back out of the room, and Jeremy said quietly to Jean, ‘Go to sleep, ok? I’m staying.’ He pressed a little kiss to his shoulder. ‘I’m staying here’

Out in the living room, Madeleine had found her second wind. She chattered about Mulan and Matilda while Jeremy chopped vegetables, and was thrilled when Jeremy pointed out that both of her new heroes had M names like her.

‘ _Mah-_ tilda,’ she enunciated. ‘ _Mah-_ deleine.’

‘I think it means you’re destined for great things.’

Between the two of them, they made a great dish of vegetarian lasagne, and used the remainder of the vegetables for a very thick soup. While the soup simmered and the lasagne baked, Jeremy and Madeleine spent a very nice time curled up on the couch reading about Ms Honey and the Trunchbull. Madeleine glowed over the horrible descriptions, asking Jeremy to reread certain parts while she positively rubbed her hands together with glee.

‘You really enjoy a good villain,’ Jeremy observed.

Jean was still asleep, so the two of them had dinner together at the table. Jeremy was tired, hoarse from reading and answering questions, and 100% positive that this was how he wanted to end every day for the rest of his life. The only addition he would make would be a fully conscious and healthy Jean, sitting beside him.

The lasagne was good, even by his standards. He sliced up the rest into portions and wrapped them in foil, ready for freezing. He felt very good about this, like he was contributing to the family. He’d have liked to make hot cocoa for dessert, but Madeleine would surely turn her nose up at his efforts. Instead, he ducked over to his apartment and returned with some fruit granola, and made little yoghurt pots.

‘What is this?’ Madeleine asked, poking at it with her spoon.

‘Why don’t you try it and find out?’ suggested Jeremy. His mother had never given him a straight answer to questions like that; it was always _Try it_ or _Well, what do you think_ or _See for yourself_. He surprised himself by automatically responding to Maddie in this way.

Jeremy washed up while Maddie practised ballet in the living room, then joined her to learn some steps himself. They both ended up collapsed on the rug laughing, because Jeremy tried to out-bend Madeleine and fell over in the attempt. Madeleine used this as an excuse to jump on top of Jeremy and wage a tickle war, which only ended when the two of them were out of breath.

‘You are a worthy opponent,’ he told Madeleine, tweaking her nose.

‘ _Swift as a something river_ ,’ trilled Madeleine, with a little air punch.

Bedtime was once again a drawn out affair, because Madeleine was an expert in dawdling and Jeremy didn’t have the strength to be stern with her like Jean was. Jean could get toilet teeth and pyjamas done in 7 minutes flat, but Jeremy was too busy having fun with her.

Madeleine’s room looked like Macy’s on Black Friday. Every item of clothing was scattered across the bed and floor, her sheets were tangled, and her new pink unicorn blanket was draped over the headboard.

‘What were you doing in here?’ Jeremy asked her, while Maddie had the good grace to look a little bit guilty.

‘Playing,’ she said. ‘Before Papa woke up. And then I couldn’t find my t-shirt.’

Jean hated that t-shirt. Jeremy suspected he’d buried it at the bottom of her drawer on purpose.

Jeremy set Madeleine to straightening her shoes and bedsheets while he gathered up all the tiny t-shirts and pants and dresses and folded them all back into the drawer. Madeleine tried to distract several times by putting shoes on her hands and underpants on her head, but Jeremy was not to be deterred. With the room finally in shape again, he pointed at the bed and Madeleine finally conceded defeat and accepted bedtime.

’Matilda,’ she reminded him, frowning from amongst the pillows. So Jeremy went and got the book and the forgotten Ballerina Tigger from the living room, and they read right up until the visit to Ms Honey’s cottage. Here the action abated slightly, and Madeleine’s head had slumped back against Jeremy’s chest, so he felt it was a good place to stop.

‘Alright,’ he murmured, sliding out from underneath her. ‘Time for sleep.’

He snuggled her down and tucked her in, with her book and pinwheel on her locker and Ballerina Tigger secured under her arm.

‘Did you have a good day?’ he whispered, kneeling by the bed so he could nose at her soft cheek before giving it a little kiss.

Madeleine nodded sleepily. She reached out and patted Jeremy’s cheek gently, and said, ‘We do it again tomorrow.’ Then she was out.

Jeremy stayed for a few more moments, soaking in the peace and serenity that radiated from her sleeping form. It occurred to him with no small amount of trepidation that he couldn’t possibly go back to how he used to live - Jean-less and Maddie-less. It would be hopelessly bleak. Empty and cold. They were his stars in the sky, and he needed their light.

After a little cleaning up in the kitchen he went into the living room with a cup of tea to catch up on phone stuff, and ended up looking over all the photos and videos from the day. He hadn’t sent half of them to Jean; there were a lot of failed selfies and blurred faces that made him laugh. He felt cozy and safe on the couch, in the soft light of Jean’s apartment. He wanted to check on Jean, but it was more important that he rested.

Almost as if his thoughts had called out, Jean emerged from the bedroom.

He looked soft and sleepy, with tousled hair and pillow marks on his cheek. Whatever look Jeremy had on his face was making Jean blush.

‘What?’

‘How do you feel?’ Jeremy asked softly.

Jean ran his hands over his face. ‘Thirsty,’ he said. ‘And disgusting. God.’

He stumbled straight to the bathroom, locking the door firmly behind him. Jeremy worried momentarily that he was getting sick again, but then he heard the shower turn on.

While he waited, he poured Jean a glass of ginger ale and then put it in the fridge so it would be nice and chilled for him. He was prepared with an amusing quip or comment for when Jean reemerged, but was so effectively shut up by the sight of Jean wearing nothing but a towel around his waist that all he managed to do was open his mouth and nothing else. Luckily Jean was too busy brushing his teeth to notice. He padded into his bedroom, still brushing, and when he came back out he was wearing shorts and carrying a dark t-shirt. He even threw a wink in Jeremy’s direction around his toothbrush. Jeremy, feeling like a lemon, twiddled his thumbs and tried not to feel aroused.

‘Got you some ginger ale,’ Jeremy offered him, when Jean came back out of the bathroom, with wet hair and minty fresh breath. He also looked 500% more alive, which was of course always good.

‘What would I do without you?’ Jean murmured, dropping a kiss on the crown of Jeremy’s head and taking the glass from him, while Jeremy stammered and blushed. Jean drank the entire glass in one go, throat working in a way that Jeremy found exceptionally interesting. He pushed the bottle towards him when Jean sat down.

‘So,’ Jean said, pouring himself another glass. ‘Tell me about the police station.’

They spent a good hour talking about the day. Jean went through all the photos and videos on Jeremy’s phone - the director’s cut, as he called it - and rewarded Jeremy with a full-bodied throaty laugh at the photo of Madeleine earnestly explaining to a huge police officer, using her tiny hands as aids, how she had found the engagement ring.

‘So how was your day?’ Jeremy asked, aware that he’d been monopolising the conversation.

Jeans sighed. ‘Well, let’s see. I spent two hours with my head in the toilet. I cleaned everything I’ve ever touched. And then I got sick again and ruined it.’

Jeremy winced in sympathy. ‘You didn’t seem to get it as badly as she did, though,’ he suggested.

Jean shook his head. ‘I never get very sick,’ he admitted. ‘Plus it probably helped that I haven’t eaten in about two days. Lost my appetite, as you can imagine. But then I passed out and woke up to the sweetest sounds of my two favourite people coming home to me.’

Jeremy reached across and took his hands. ‘I had a wonderful time with her,’ he said softly. ‘But we missed you.’

Jean snorted. ‘ _You_ missed me,’ he said. ‘I have no doubt that she didn’t even mention me.’ He brushed his thumbs gently over Jeremy’s fingers.

‘Maybe I just missed you enough for the both of us.’

Jean was smiling so tenderly at him that Jeremy almost leaned in.

Then Jean, with a start, said, ‘Wait, what time is it? Aren’t you working?’

Jeremy smiled. ‘Not tonight,’ he said softly. ‘I called in sick. Didn’t you hear? My family had a bug, and I caught it too.’ He leaned down and kissed Jean’s hands.

Jean had a helpless look in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry - I’ve never felt less sexy in my life,’ he confessed. Jeremy burst out laughing, shoulders shaking, while Jean looked very embarrassed.

‘Oh, Jean,’ he said, trying to calm down. He was shaking, more from a release of nervous energy than anything else. ‘I am definitely not trying to seduce you when you’re sick and haven’t eaten in two days.’

Jean sighed in relief. ‘Oh, thank god,’ he said, shoulders sagging. ‘I feel like I’ve been microwaved.’

Jeremy got up and put his arms around Jean’s broad shoulders, kissing his head as they laughed gently at each other.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Bedtime.’

Jean caught his hand. ‘Will you still stay?’ he asked quietly. ‘Even if …?’

Jeremy kissed his head again. ‘I just gotta go brush my teeth,’ he said. ‘Be back in five.’

Even though absolutely nothing was going to happen, Jeremy still gave his teeth their most thorough brushing ever, and chose clean sleep things. His usual pyjamas for summer were just underpants, but he selected shorts and a t-shirt for tonight’s PG-13 sleepover. He was actually very excited to geta good night’s sleep in bed beside Jean. He couldn’t think of anywhere more relaxing.

There were a few lights still on when he got back. Madeleine didn’t have a problem with the dark, so he locked the door and then put the rest of the apartment to bed. He straightened the throw on the back of the couch and pushed in the chairs, and washed the glass Jean had used. Neat and tidy. He looked in on Madeleine too, just in case.

Jean was still pottering around his room. He’d changed the bedsheets too; probably self-conscious about lingering germs. The window was open, and a cool night breeze was wafting through the curtains.

‘Jean,’ Jeremy said sternly. He pointed. ‘Bed.’

Jeremy already knew which side of the bed Jean slept on. He realised now it was the same side that Jean had put him on when he’d been incapacitated. He climbed in and pulled the light sheet over his knees, avoiding Jean’s eyes as he did the same. They shuffled around a bit until they were comfortable, and then Jeremy turned over on his side.

‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Want a cuddle?’

‘Always,’ Jean sighed. ‘Maddie is so stingy.’

He rolled over on to his other side as Jeremy wriggled over towards him happily, and wrapped an arm around him. Jean was built like a swimmer; big shoulders, narrow waist. Jeremy made a mental note to ask him if he was into swimming. Maybe they could all go to the beach.

Jean took his hand and held it to his chest. Jeremy could feel his heartbeat. He nosed against the back of Jean’s neck, but restrained himself because he knew how poorly Jean was feeling, despite appearances. He didn’t want to even tempt him.

‘There’ll be plenty of other nights,’ he whispered, snuggling down against him. ‘And mornings, too.’

Jean squeezed his hand. ‘That a promise?’

Jeremy pushed himself up just enough to kiss his love’s cheek. ‘Go to sleep, Jean,’ he whispered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm almost moved out and finally getting over these numerous colds and flus so new update soon hopefullY!!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beginning each chapter like I begin every one of my work emails, SORRY FOR THE DELAY
> 
>  
> 
> this chapter switches POVs a good bit because I'm a flighty binch who couldn't decide so sorry if it's confusing xoxo

Jean woke up feeling almost 100% better. He was well rested, he didn’t want to throwup, and Jeremy was draped across his chest, snoring very quietly.

Madeleine wasn’t up yet, which meant it was still very early. Jeremy’s face was pressed against Jean’s chest, and his arm was around his waist. He was using Jean as a pillow; Jean’s heart swelled three sizes in his chest when he realised this. It was unusual to be feeling this loved-up so soon after awakening, especially considering no one had gotten any action last night. But Jean knew his contentment didn’t have to come from romance or sex.

Jeremy’s knobbly knees were pressed against Jean’s thigh, and his unique jasmine/baking smell was everywhere. Jean wanted to roll over on top of him and wake him up with a kiss, but he deserved his rest.

Jean drifted off to sleep again.

When he awoke again, Jeremy had moved back from him. They were now in their own separate spaces, and Jean missed him.

‘Where’d you go,’ he mumbled, unthinkingly.

Jeremy’s little noise of amusement startled him; he’d thought he was still asleep.

‘Sorry,’ Jeremy said, the note of teasing clear in his voice. ‘I thought I might be smothering you.’

This time Jean did roll over on top of him. Jeremy laughed and wriggled, but ultimately pulled him down for a snuggle, tucking his chin over his shoulder and getting his arms around him again. Jean cupped his cheek; he was propped up on one elbow, savouring this delicious new intimacy. Jeremy rubbed his hands slowly across Jean’s back and tangled their feet together as their bodies settling in against one another.

‘I was afraid this wouldn’t work for me,’ Jeremy said suddenly. He looked a little surprised, like he hadn’t planned on opening his mouth. Rather than be afraid, Jean just stroked his cheek and asked what he meant.

Jeremy slanted his gaze away. ’Sometimes I have … intimacy issues. There have been situations where I thought I was into it - until I wasn’t.’ He looked back up at Jean, and smiled. ‘Just something that used to happen, I guess.’

Jean looked at him thoughtfully. ‘If that ever happens with me,’ he said. ‘Will you tell me?’

Jeremy nodded slowly. ‘But I don’t think it will,’ he said. ‘It’s not the same thing with you. You’ve always felt different.’

Jean smiled. ‘Good different?’

Jeremy gave him a shy smile. Then he tilted his head up.

They kissed slowly and quietly, in the peace of the early morning. There was such a feeling of security in having Jeremy underneath him, wrapped around him, keeping him close. His lips were soft, like his body. Jean slid his hands underneath him and rolled them both over, hugging him to his chest without breaking the kiss. Jeremy was smiling against his mouth; once on top, he took Jean’s face in his hands and kissed him enthusiastically, body moving in a very pleasing way. What a way to wake up, Jean thought in an almost delirious blur of happiness.

He let his mind wander. He imagined waking up every morning pressed close to Jeremy’s warm body. Pulling him on top of him, feeling Jeremy’s hands reach out and touch him, his sleepy smile kissing him awake. Jeremy worked nights, Jean worked whenever he felt like it … they could have easy mornings like this all the time.

In the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t be this simple, let alone every day. But Jean would happily take just once in a blue moon if that’s all he could have.

Just as Jean started to feel a growing hardness between Jeremy’s legs, a call came that he was powerless to ignore.

‘Papa I make my breakfast ok?’

She was right outside the door. Jeremy rolled right off Jean with a startled grunt, drawing back in the bed to the very edge just as Maddie poked her head through the door.

‘Good morning, ma chérie,’ Jean smiled at her, holding out his hand. Jeremy was cringing beside him, but Jean knew Maddie wouldn’t see anything strange about this situation. ‘You’re gonna fix your own breakfast this morning?’

Maddie nodded. She was barefoot and wearing her yellow summer nightie. It had little frills around the sleeves which she liked very much. She was craning her neck to get a look at Jeremy, obviously very intrigued by his presence. ‘I have my cereal. And juice in my cup. Um, and then can Jeremy read me some Matilda?’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’

Maddie stood up on tiptoes to peer over Jean’s body. ‘Jeremy we read Matilda later?’ There was a thread of anxiety in her high little voice.

Jeremy finally summoned up his courage. He propped himself up and assured Madeleine with great warmth that they would of course read Matilda later. It gave Jean a feeling of great comfort to see how relaxed and natural Jeremy was with her, despite his initial discomfort.

Madeleine got half way out the door before leaning back in and asking, ‘Um, do you want breakfast?’

Jean smothered a smile. ‘No thank you, ma chérie,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll make ours later. You go have yours now and then you can watch tv, ok?’

She scampered off, and Jean got up briefly to open the door again so he could listen for her. ’That fake choking incident gave me grey hairs,’ he said to Jeremy darkly, climbing back in beside him.

‘Does she need any help making breakfast?’ Jeremy asked curiously, stretching out on his stomach beside him. He reached out a hand and let it rest on Jean’s stomach.

‘No,’ said Jean. ‘All she knows how to make is cereal, so I keep the box down low for her. She has her own bowl and spoon too, in that small press beside the sink.’

Jeremy smiled fondly. ‘How self-sufficient of her.’

‘She likes the responsibility,’ Jean said, folding one arm under his head. ‘When I was sick yesterday morning all I could hear was her getting ready and calling out “I’m ok, I’m doing it myself!”’ Jean’s mouth quirked up in a smile, tickled by the memory. ‘She hardly needs me at all.’

‘I hope you don’t mind that I’m reading _Matilda_ with her,’ Jeremy said suddenly. ‘She just asked, and I couldn’t say no. I mean, you can carry on reading it to her, I don’t mind - ‘

Jean shook his head. ‘It’s nice that you have a little thing with her. She’ll like that it’s a special thing just the two of you do. Maddie has plenty of books, and I’ve been reading her stories for years.’ He smirked. ‘Guess we’ll be seeing you around here at bedtime more often.’

Jeremy smiled shyly at him. ‘Guess so.’

They dozed for a little while longer, occasionally reaching out to touch or caress. They probably would have stayed like that for a good while longer if Madeleine’s piercing shriek for Jean hadn’t jolted them both into full, panicked consciousness.

‘What, Madeleine?’ Jean fell out into the hallway, heart thudding. ‘What?’

She was standing up on the couch, Ballerina Tigger raised above her head, her mess of curls glittering oddly at him.

‘Did you tell Jeremy about the thing!’ she gasped, eyes wide.

It took Jean’s body a few seconds to realise that there was no immediate danger to his child. Then Jeremy thudded into him from behind, looking about as panicked as Jean had felt approximately 5 seconds ago.

‘She ok??’ he asked, almost falling over Jean.

‘She’s fine,’ Jean said, sagging against the wall. ‘Madeleine, _what_ have we talked about? No screaming like you’re on fire unless you’re actually on fire!’

‘Oh god,’ breathed Jeremy, slumping against him. ‘Oh my god.’

He went straight over to the couch; Madeleine, knowing full well she’d done wrong, held out her arms for him and let herself be wrapped up and lifted. Jean’s heart, still pounding furiously, did a little swoop as he took in the sight of Jeremy and Maddie trading early morning hugs in their pyjamas.

‘So what was so important, baby girl?’ he was murmuring into her hair. ‘What’s papa got to tell me?’

Madeleine peeked at Jean from over Jeremy’s shoulder. Jean shrugged a little at her. ‘Go on,’ he encouraged her quietly.

In her tiny voice, Madeleine told Jeremy about her ballet show and her red tutu and how it was in two weeks and everyone was coming.

‘So who’s everyone?’ Jeremy asked, as he and Jean reconvened in the kitchen. Madeleine was in her room hunting for _Matilda_.

Jean put the coffee on and leaned back against the counter. ‘4C,’ he said. ‘And Allison. She’ll be there anyways for Rose, but we’re sitting together. I think she’s having a little party for a few of the girls at her place afterwards. And you. That’s our everyone.’

Jean had hoped that Jeremy would be around for the whole night. Sure, the party would wrap up around 8pm anyways, but it just wouldn’t feel right if Jeremy didn’t come home with them at the end of the night.

Madeleine was calling for Jeremy. Jean wanted to discuss things a little further, but he settled for bringing Jeremy his coffee and kissing both of their heads before going for a shower. Madeleine was in capable, loving hands; of that he had no doubt.

That evening, Jeremy came back over for bedtime stories as promised. Madeleine was slightly devastated that they’d reached the end of the book, but Jeremy promised her they’d find another one.

‘There’s also a movie,’ he added. This brightened Madeleine’s outlook greatly, and she stopped putting up resistance and went to bed. Afterwards, Jean persuaded Jeremy to stay for wine and a cuddle until he had to go to work. Logic and good sense told them they couldn’t get into it too much, but that somehow went out the window for Jean when he was faced with Jeremy’s soft, beautiful body, and cuddling turned into frantic making out on the couch that only ended when Jeremy’s phone alarm went off.

Jean felt that he and Jeremy were one spark away from a giant fire that would burn indefinitely once lit. He didn’t know what would happen if that fire was faced with obstacles like real life and responsibility, but at this point he simply couldn’t ignore its call anymore.

And spark or not, he was still kindling his own small flame of love in his heart for Jeremy. That one may never go out, even if Jeremy decided that it was too much for him, too much to ask of a young man in his twenties who loved working in a club and staying out all night. He’d already asked a lot of Jeremy - he wouldn’t ask him to reign in his lifestyle and be a parent if his heart wasn’t truly in it.

It was a dangerous thought for Jean. He was still in the discovery phase of his relationship with Jeremy, while simultaneously curating his daughter’s relationship with him.

They would have to talk, and talking would change things permanently, one way or another. Jean knew he wouldn’t have an easy night’s rest until that happened, but events began to conspire against them.

He texted Jeremy the next evening.

 

 **Jean:** Come over? Move night (Matilda) + date? xxx

 

Jeremy took an unusually long time to text back. Jean knew he wasn’t at the bar today, but Jeremy was usually very reachable when he wasn’t working.

 

 **Jeremy:** argh, so sorry, can’t today. Another time xxx

 

Jean frowned.

 

 **Jean:** What are you up to?

 

Again, another long silence. Jean kept throwing suspicious looks at the wall of his apartment as he paced around. Jeremy never just said “can’t”. If he was hanging with friends, he’d say. If he had errands, he’d rush them or ask what time or at least explain.

 

 **Jeremy:** Something came up

 

Alarm bells went off in Jean’s head. His brain dithered briefly over _he’s calling it off_ before skipping impatiently to the next obvious answer.

 

 **Jean:** like your lunch?

 

 **Jean:** are you sick

 

 **Jean:** I can’t believe you’re sick

 

 **Jean:** actually I can, I knew this would happen, I told you this would happen. Congrats. Enjoy it

 

 **Jean:** Please let me come over

 

Jeremy finally stopped torturing him.

 

 **Jeremy:** it’s not that bad. Mostly last night. Threw up in the uber home from work so that was interesting. I’m basically just sleeping now. Save Matilda for when I’m better? Xxx

 

Jean thought about going straight over and breaking down his door, but Madeleine couldn’t be left, and he knew 4C were out for the afternoon. Besides, Jeremy was a big boy who was used to taking care of himself and who wanted to be left alone. Jean was, he realised with no small amount of horror, trying to parent him.

 

 **Jean:** Of course. Let me know as soon as you’re feeling up to a visit. Missing you xxx

 

Was that too much? Every time he was around Jeremy, he feel like he’d made his feelings and intentions perfectly clear, but five seconds away from him and Jean worried he wasn’t being obvious enough.

The clear solution was: see Jeremy every day. Wake up beside him every morning. And if they couldn’t go to bed together every night, then they could at least oversee Madeleine’s bedtime together.

Jean’s phone vibrated again. He picked it up, and sighed in happy relief;Jeremy had sent him a photo of his face. Jean poured over it; he was lying back in bed, the neckline of his soft grey sleep shirt just visible. He was pale and messy haired, smiling big and exaggerated. Jean wanted to brush away those dark circles and make him smile for real.

 

Life went on. Jean helped Madeleine mail Jeremy’s invitation to her recital, and Jeremy came over to thank her in person. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really; Jeremy spent a lot of time at their apartment as it was. He came over for dinner almost every evening, and cooked half of the time too. But they had busy lives; Jean was entering crunch time for the new Lily book, but he was filled with new ideas for painting. He’d rushed so many of the last ones, and there were so many ideas he wanted to take further and explore.

As ever, Jeremy’s job left him tired, and his social life was consistently demanding. But he usually managed to meet them for lunch a few times a week or come for a walk, so Jean was surprised when he called and said he wouldn’t be around for a week or so.

‘You’re going on vacation?’ Jean asked, frowning. Not the most unusual prospect, but it was a bit out of the blue for a planner like Jeremy.

‘Not exactly.’ Jean was in the grocery store and Jeremy sounded like he’d just woken up, which was par for the course for their relationship lately. ‘I’m, uh, going upstate. My sisters and I are meeting up for the first time in - well, a couple of years. It’s kind of like a world summit.’

Jean didn’t really know what that meant for them, having not a single family member besides his baby, and they tended to thrash out all their issues in the moment.

‘Well, that’s good,’ he said slowly, holding a can of kidney beans and wondering if he could persuade Maddie to try them. ‘For how long?’

‘I’m leaving this afternoon,’ Jeremy admitted. ‘And I’m working again on Sunday night, so.’

Jean blinked. ‘Wow, that long.’ He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but he had to wonder what on earth they had to talk about.

‘It was mostly Melissa’s idea from a while ago,’ Jeremy went on hurriedly. ‘I just brought it up again, and she ran with it. I don’t really know what she’s planning - I think she wants us to bond. But I do have a few things I want to discuss …’

Jean waited. But Jeremy had drifted off.

‘Like what?’ he asked, when nothing more was forthcoming.

Jeremy sounded hesitant. ’Is it alright if I don’t say right now? I haven’t quite got it all worked out in my head yet.’

Jean hadn’t expected for it to sound so personal. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I mean, of course. You don’t have to tell me anything.’

‘I want to, though,’ Jeremy pressed. ‘You’re that person for me now, Jean.’

Not it was Jean who couldn’t speak.

‘That - means a lot to me,’ he stammered. ‘I feel the same way.’ An odd conversation to be having in a grocery store while holding a can of kidney beans. ‘So, no pressure. You just … tell me when you’re ready. Whenever that may be.’

He could hear the relief in Jeremy’s voice. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. Then, in a lighter tone, ‘It’s gonna be weird not seeing you guys for a while. I’m leaving at two, can I come over and say goodbye?’

Jean wasn’t sure how he was going to break it to Madeleine that Jeremy wasn’t going to be around for a couple of days. Jean had hung a little calendar in her bedroom and marked weekly events like ballet, Kevin days, Abby days, and most importantly, Jeremy days. This was going to throw her whole schedule out of whack.

When Jeremy showed up at 2, he already had his coat on.

‘Wow, you really are leaving right now,’ Jean said, surprise colouring his voice.

Jeremy shrugged. He looked a little harried. ‘Yeah, I know. Kinda last minute. Not sure if I packed my toothbrush.’

Jean hustled him into the apartment, putting a hand on his lower back in an attempt to comfort what was clearly signs of distress.

‘You getting the train?’ he asked, as Madeleine chattered in the bathroom. ‘Do you need water, or snacks?’

’No, I’ve got everything,’ Jeremy replied. He was tugging on the ends of his sleeves, and Jean, who had been chewing over Jeremy’s words all afternoon, now felt his own niggling tug of anxiety.

‘Jeremy,’ he said, voice low. ‘You don’t seem ok.’ He rubbed his hand soothingly over Jeremy’s back and shoulders. ‘Are you sure you should be going?’

Jeremy’s lower lip trembled, but only for a second. Jean might have imagined it.

‘Just something I have to do,’ he replied quickly. He had the look of a man on the edge, so Jean quickly put his arm around him and pulled him against his body.

‘It’s alright,’ he said quietly against Jeremy’s hair. Jeremy’s arms were tight around him. ‘We’ll be here when you get back, same as always.’

Jeremy’s breath shuddered out in a sigh. He pulled away slowly, then all at once when Madeleine emerged from the bathroom.

‘There she is,’ he enthused, all smiles again. Jean thought he might be putting on a brave face for her, but he seemed genuinely relieved to get her up into his arms for a hug. ‘Did Papa tell you I have to go away for a few days?’

‘Family reunion,’ Madeleine enunciated carefully, glancing at Jean to see if she’d said it right.

‘Yeah baby that’s right,’ Jeremy said softly, brushing her soft curls away from her face. ‘I gotta go see my sisters.’

Madeleine was clearly thinking hard. ‘And we’re your family too,’ she said, looking to them both for clarification. Jean hesitated, biting his lip, but Jeremy stepped right in.

‘Yes you are,’ he said quietly, smiling at her. ‘Can I tell you a secret?’

Maddie nodded eagerly, so Jeremy leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was made her giggle and smile proudly at Jean, who smiled back knowingly like he was in on it too.

Then it was time to hug goodbye and send him on his way. Jean dithered for half a second before grabbing his walkie talkie and following Jeremy downstairs to where a taxi was waiting.

‘Hang on,’ he said, putting a hand on the door. Jeremy stopped, stepping back out of the cab again.

‘Jean, I’ll be fine,’ he said, with a little smile. ’It’s just family stuff.’

‘Right,’ said Jean, not quite sure what he was out here to say. ‘What did you say to Madeleine?’

Jeremy grinned. ‘I told her she was my favourite. Are you offended?’

Jean shrugged. ‘Ah, it’s all just a popularity contest,’ he said lightly.

They smiled at each other for a moment, and then Jean ducked in and kissed him. It started slow and turned into something deeper, and ended with Jeremy’s arms wrapped around his neck and the taxi driver honking at them.

‘Won’t forget that in a hurry,’ Jeremy mumbled, a little breathless. His cheeks were pink, but he was smiling for real now.

‘You’d better call,’ Jean warned him, so very reluctant to let him go. ‘Or you’ll be hearing from my representative.’

‘Wouldn’t want to cross her,’ Jeremy agreed. He cupped Jean’s cheek gently and kissed him one last time.

‘Bye,’ he whispered, brushing their noses together. Then he was gone from his arms and into the cab and out of sight.

 

With no Jeremy around, Jean found himself adjacent to where he’d been before they’d moved to Queens. There were many improvements; Jean now had his own set of friends from ballet, and both he and Maddie were firm friends with Allison and Rose. They even had a playdate organised for Saturday afternoon. Jean was planning on getting some extra studio time in and then take Maddie and Rose for dinner so Allison could go on a date of her own. Jean had, in a burst of good spirit and low-key loneliness, offered to keep Rose for the night - it would be Maddie’s first sleepover, but not Rose’s, and Allison readily agreed.

Jean thought it would be good for Madeleine. She too had been pining for Jeremy; Jean had a feeling that it was knowing there was no possibility of him calling over that was keeping her spirits low. They’d spoken with Jeremy on the phone every evening, and exchanged texts and photos, and it was clear they weren’t the only ones in bad form. Though he put on a good show for Maddie, Jeremy was very vague and melancholic in his private conversations with Jean after Maddie had gone to bed. He always called first for Maddie’s bedtime - he was never a minute late - but waited for Jean to call him later. And always the tone of relief in his voice when he answered the phone.

‘It’s just a cabin,’ he told Jean over the phone on the Friday evening. It was their first call where Jeremy was actually talking; before this, he hadn’t wanted to talk about a single thing. He just asked about them both the whole time. ‘Mel’s borrowed it from a friend. It’s nice enough. Beth and Michaela keep arguing over nothing and Mel’s hitting the Pinot Grigio every night at 5pm, so nobody’s here to bother me after dinner. Not sure what we’re meant to be achieving here, but it’s a good thing we have another day.’

Jean was mildly curious about what was going on, but his main concern was Jeremy.

‘How are you feeling about it?’ he asked, worrying the tassels of the throw on his bed. He’d braided a whole row of them so far. He hadn’t a clue what he was asking; in an ideal world, he’d just take Jeremy in his arms and let him talk it out, and then kiss his sweet face until he didn’t feel so blue anymore.

Jeremy sighed. ‘Nothing’s really happened yet. We just had a few drinks last night, talked about our lives, whatever’s going on. Maybe I’ll try to corner them tomorrow afternoon. Not sure if they’ll listen to me. They’re all like mom - used to run me and dad down all the time.’

Jean drank in the sound of his voice. God, how could he miss him this much already? He ached for him.

‘You’re very persuasive, do you know that?’ he murmured. ‘And intelligent. And you could charm the birds out of a tree.’ He smiled at the bashful little noise Jeremy made in response. ‘You charmed me down from the clouds. Not sure how you spotted me when I was half lost up there.’

‘How could I miss you?’ Jeremy said quietly in response. ‘Stumbling around in my hallway, carrying a pink doll’s house … You had the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.’ He sighed. ‘I thought about you all the way down the stairs, out on to the sidewalk. All day at work. All night.’

Jean couldn’t fight the smile of his face. ‘You did not,’ he mumbled. ‘Not all night.’

‘Plenty of other nights, too,’ Jeremy went on, voice a little lower now, and a bit stronger. ‘Especially lately. Ever since we first kissed.’

Jean hadn’t expected the sudden honesty. Or how hot it was.

‘We need to do more of that,’ he agreed, shakily. ‘We should, uh, probably talk when you get back.’

Jeremy sighed a little. ‘Yeah, and we will,’ he agreed. ‘But for now can I just … just listen to you talk about your day again? Tell me about your painting. Leave nothing out.’

Jean happily obliged; he’d wanted to pick Jeremy’s brains about a new piece anyways. They chatted for another half hour or so before saying goodnight.

‘Let me know how tomorrow goes,’ Jean reminded him. He didn’t have a single idea about what might be going on between Jeremy and his sisters but if it involved Jeremy in any way then he cared and wanted to know about it.

‘I will,’ Jeremy promised. ‘You’ve got Rose tomorrow, right?’

‘Yeah, I think we’re gonna do a camping sleepover in the living room.’

‘You got tents?’

‘Bedsheets. Did it for Maddie’s birthday last year.’

Jeremy sighed. ‘Your parental energy knows no bounds. That sounds teeth-grindingly adorable.’

‘I’ll send photos.’

‘You’re the best,’ Jeremy murmured, sounding tired. ‘Thank you.’

Jean wanted to stay on the phone with him all night, just to be close. ‘Anything for you,’ he replied, quietly.

There was a pause. ‘Jean.’

‘We’ll talk when you get back,’ Jean promised. ‘Stay focused on you.’

Jean had been thinking a lot about asking Jeremy out on a proper date. After conversations like this, he found himself thinking about it almost obsessively.

The possibility of a date with Jeremy was both nerve-wracking and incredibly exciting. A chance to be intimate with him in a public space; to hold his hand and kiss his cheek, to let everyone who saw them know that they were together. That they had a connection, something specialbetween the two of them.

Fuck, they might even have sex after. Jean pushed his laptop away and slid down in his bed, a little shiver running over his skin. He’d had Jeremy in this bed with him before, sleeping right here where Jean lay now. He remembered how Jeremy’s shirt had slid up his stomach when he’d stretched, revealing his taut stomach and short trail of hair that disappeared into his shorts. Jean had itched to reach out and run his fingers over it.

Part of him was very concerned with the fact that he hadn’t had sex in a very long time. He hadn’t had sex with a man in even longer. The idea that he might not last more than sixty seconds once he got a look at Jeremy naked was a distinct possibility that could very well keep him up at night.

Wriggling under his sheet, he slipped a hand inside his underwear and thought about how Jeremy had felt underneath him. He’d kissed his neck and touched his body so sweetly, but Jean had felt a hunger in him. The same hunger that gnawed inside of him too. He let his mind move forward and imagine what they might have done next, and his hand took care of the rest. He tried to hold out for as long as he could, but eventually he twisted and bit down on the pillow as his body gave a hard shudder. He hadn’t come that hard in a long time. He could only imagine what it would feel like with Jeremy.

 

Saturday came as a rare creative gift to Jean. He took Madeleine over to Allison’s house for noon and then headed straight to the studio. Most artists were night owls so he snatched the biggest studio for himself. He’d even shelled out for the extra hour, so from 12:30 to 3:30 it was just him and the canvas. And at the end of it all he was spattered in paint, surrounded by rough charcoal sketches, and facing something that had finally begun to bloom before his eyes. There were still many of the deep browns and reds and oranges that had dominated his previous series, but now there was light finding its way through. The painting he’d produced, he felt, could be a jumping off point - the bridge between the rushed beginnings of his last series and where he could potentially take it. He remembered the couple from the exhibition who’d expressed excitement at seeing what he’d do next. As Jean stared around him at the line of thought he’d rushed along on the path to this new painting, he thought he might be starting to figure that out.

He gathered up the sketches in something of a daze. He’d had only Madeleine’s unwanted toast for breakfast and had painted through lunch, so he took himself off to a bodega and got something hot and greasy. Sitting on a park bench enjoying the summer sunshine, Jean stared at the sketches and let his mind rush along, uninterrupted.

As ever, his thoughts meandered towards Jeremy in the end. He took a picture of his leg and the sketches in the sunshine and sent it to him. Jeremy replied with one of his own bare leg stretched out on deck beside the water. Jean hoped he was starting to enjoy himself, but simultaneously felt a little thrill at the thought that Jeremy would be back tomorrow.

Jean picked up a few snacks for the Maddie and Rose on his way home, and a few strings of fairy lights. He then doubled back to Allison’s place to collect the girls; when he arrived, Allison roped him into the apartment with the promise of a drink.

Jean liked Allison well enough, but he was extremely glad that she wasn’t asking him to critique her outfit or help her tan her back, like many girls he’d known in college had just assumed he’d be up for. Instead he hung out with the little ones in the living room and sipped the outrageously fruity cocktail she’d made him. Maddie asked could she try it but was gently rebuffed. The two girls were colouring pictures at the coffee table, although Rose looked to be writing a story. Maddie kept stealing envious glances at the letters she couldn’t yet make sense of. 

Allison wandered in and out from her bedroom to ask Rose and Maddie’s opinions on earrings and lipstick. Rose seemed disinterested, but Madeleine rose eagerly to her knees and stared wide-eyed at Allison’s glamorous form whenever she entered the room. Jean had to fight down a smile as she responded quickly to every suggestion, dropping her crayons to gaze at whatever jewel or colour Allison was considering. She agreed with everything Allison said, just thrilled to be asked. Allison took her comments very seriously, and said things like, ‘Ok, I’ll go with what Madeleine said.’ Maddie’s face was shining with happiness.

Allison then elevated herself to sainthood in Jean’s eyes by inviting Maddie into her bedroom to help with the final touches. For once, Maddie didn’t even glance at Jean for permission - she was up and gone like a shot. Jean, endlessly amused, couldn’t wait to tell Jeremy.

He sat in silence with Rose for a few moments as she scribbled away on her papers. Jean noticed that most of what she was writing was just a very neat arrangement of letters, put down in whatever way pleased Rose best.

‘You don’t wanna help your mom too?’ Jean asked.

Rose shook her head. ‘Clothes and stuff are boring,’ she replied, drawing a very elegant capital R. ‘I don’t like when mommy goes out with men.’

Jean frowned. They were encroaching on personal territory.

‘Your mommy likes to have fun too,’ Jean reminded her gently. ‘Just like you’re going to have fun with Madeleine at our house.’

Rose wrinkled her nose and shook her head, her little braids swinging. ’That’s different,’ she disagreed. ‘Maddie’s my friend. Mommy doesn’t like the men.’

Children were frighteningly perceptive, Jean thought.

‘I don’t want her to get married to them,’ Rose went on, leaning a little harder on her crayon. ‘Men are smelly, I don’t want them here.’

Jean almost said “not all men”, but caught himself just in time.

So he switched track. ‘You might like this one,’ he tried. ‘And besides, if your mommy gets married she isn’t going to pick a smelly man. She would only marry someone very special that you both loved.’

Rose had a think about this, then looked up at him.

‘Ok,’ she agreed, like Jean had just struck a deal with her. Then she resumed writing her memoirs. ‘Maddie says you’re going to marry your friend.’

Jean almost dropped the glass.

‘Does she now?’ he asked, feeling his anxiety start to stir and kick him.

‘It’s the same thing,’ Rose told him. ‘A special man that you love.’

While Jean was certainly thrilled to hear that Madeleine had no objections to Jean bringing Jeremy into their lives on a permanent basis - as much as she understood what that might mean - he was starting to get very worried that Jeremy might come back and announce he was moving to Spain to find himself or something. He’d been so preoccupied with getting Jeremy into their lives that he’d neglected to plan for what might happen if he had to leave them.

‘Wow, where has your mommy gotten to?’ Jean wondered, craning his neck anxiously towards the bedroom.

Allison did in fact emerge a minute later. Madeleine was following along behind her carrying her purse and looking starstruck.

‘It’s a little early for dinner, isn’t it?’ Jean asked, glancing at the time.

Allison was too well-made up to flush. ‘Early bird,’ she said airily. ‘We’re going to a show. And then for a drink. How do I look?’

She did look amazing. Allison was one of those people born with natural style and grace, from her hair to her clothes to her walk. Tonight’s ensemble involved dark silky pants paired with a cream blouse that looked soft as peaches. Tiny rubies glinted at her ears and she wore a thin gold chain around her neck.

‘Papa, I got to try on Allison’s shoes!’ Maddie told him excitedly, two hands holding the purse strap.

‘Very good, sweetheart.’ Jean was scrutinising Allison, and what appeared to be actual nerves. She was clacking around in her pretty clothes, fidgeting with her hair and twisting her earrings. Rose twisted and squirmed away from her mother as she fussed over her hair and tried to clean her face. Relieving Maddie of Allison’s purse, Jean scooped her up into his lap and started teasing out some of the tangles in her hair. He’d sent her off this morning with a neat braid; shockingly, playtime with Rose had required that this be undone. Maddie’s hair was very soft but as thick as her mother’s, and even at age 4 it needed a bit of work.

‘Papa, ow,’ Maddie complained, squirming around.

‘It’ll hurt less at bedtime if I do it now,’ Jean reminded her. They had this conversation almost daily.

‘Rose wants her own braids,’ Allison murmured, petting Rose’s soft afro.

‘When is she getting here?’ Jean asked nonchalantly.

She clicked her phone to check the time. ‘Couple of minutes,’ she replied. ‘She had a class …’ She trailed off, mouth hanging open, then shot a glare at Jean.

‘ _She_ ,’ Jean said delicately.

‘ _So_ what?’ Allison threw back. She straightened up and flicked her hair. ‘And I want you all gone when she gets here.’

Neither Rose nor Maddie had picked up on anything, but Jean was feeling a strange delight at teasing Allison.

‘Well, I think we’re ready,’ he said, looping Maddie’s hair up into a ponytail that he knew she hated but was staying that way until he could get his hands on a hairbrush. ‘Rose, got your bag?’

Rose eagerly raised the strap of her little backpack in response.

Jean made the kids shriek happily when he hoisted them both over his shoulders. He let them dangle, clutching his hair and sweater, while he grabbed the bags.

‘I can drop her off around ten thirty tomorrow,’ he said, as Allison opened the door for them. He had bags looped around his elbows and one hand on the skinny ankles trying to kick him in the chest. ‘If the coast is clear, that is.’

‘Don’t be rude,’ Allison chided him, with a distinct bite in her voice. ‘Now please take care of my child and call me if you need to.’

‘I will,’ Jean replied. ‘But I’m sure I won’t need to.’ He dropped his voice. ’She’s already used to a gay parent.’

‘Jesus, you’re a bitch,’ Allison complained. ‘Bye Rosie baby, I love you.’

‘Love you mommy,’ Rose called back, waving. ‘Have fun with your, um, thing.’

Jean let them skip down the pavement ahead of him while he trailed behind, a pink rucksack on each shoulder. He sent a few snaps to Jeremy, noting that some of his earlier ones had not yet been opened. If the afternoon was going badly, at least he’d have something to cheer him up later.

Rose was a wilful child, but Allison was a strong mother, so she rarely gave trouble. Jean let them chase each other around the park for a while before taking them home for dinner. After dinner came the construction of tent city, a variation on Jean’s humble tent home for two. The girls told him he was “too big” for one tent to contain, so they sacrificed all the sheets in the house (as well as towels and some sweaters) to the tent gods. Jean strung up some fairy lights, added cushions and pillows and Ballerina Tigger, and then left them to it with a movie on Jean’s laptop and a bowl of popcorn between them. Before long, their tiny piping voices emerged from the living room as they sang along (and copied the dialogue) to _Moana_.

Jean slumped at the table. He was pretty exhausted from the day; painting always left him wiped, and that was before you added any children to the equation. He still had some of Jeremy’s soup, so he defrosted that and kept quiet for a while. He glanced at his phone frequently, wondering what Jeremy was up to. Today might be a big day for him; if he missed bedtime, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, since Madeleine was already distracted.

But Jean’s heart soared when his phone rang at 8:155. Jeremy never let them down. Madeleine took the call with a grand flourish - ignoring the fact that she had to hold Jean’s cell with two hands - and spoke to Jeremy like she was taking a call from the queen of England.

Jean sat at the table so he could listen in. ‘How come he’s calling her?’ Rose asked, leaning against Jean and watching Maddie curiously.

‘He’s been away for a while,’ Jean explained quietly. ‘So he’s just calling to say hello.’

Rose gnawed on a bit of her hair; Jean gently removed it from her mouth.

‘He’s like Madeleine’s other daddy?’ she asked, wide eyes fixed on Maddie.

Jean didn’t answer her. He wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Are you having a fun time?’ he asked her instead. Rose nodded eagerly and started telling him about Moana, so they saw out the rest of the phone call in safety.

‘Papa.’ Maddie was holding the phone out to him importantly. ‘Jeremy wants to talk to you.’

Jean took the phone as the girls wandered back into the living room. ‘Jeremy says hi,’ he heard Maddie tell Rose.

‘She sounds like she’s having fun.’ Jeremy’s voice was wonderfully warm on the other end of the line. Jean sank back into his chair, relief flooding his body and loosening something he hadn’t even realised was tightly wound.

‘She is,’ he replied. ‘She spent all day with Rose and somehow they’re still not bored with each other.’

‘Some people just click.’ Jeremy sounded tired, but happy.

‘Tell me what’s going on,’ Jean said softly.

Jeremy sighed, but it contained none of the stress it had the night before.

‘It went well,’ he admitted. ‘Really well. I can’t wait to tell you about it. But I want it to be in person … is that ok?’

Jean rested his chin on his fist. ‘Whatever you want, love,’ he murmured. ‘I’m just happy you’re happy.’

Jean knew he was tired and his defences were lowered; the affection in his voice just slipped out.

‘Allison’s on a date with a woman,’ he added.

He could practically see Jeremy perking up. It wasn’t so much a gossip thing as a gay thing - Jean certainly wasn’t the loudest gay in the parade, but Jeremy seemed to be finding his queer side more and more every day. Additionally, it was rare to see Jeremy without some kind of makeup lately, and Jean found it kind of alluring. It hadn’t been something he’d considered before, or even been exposed to - but he liked it. He certainly found it very cute when Jeremy had glitter on his neck and little blue painted fingernails. He wanted to see Jeremy putting it all on, ready to go to work … and then coming home again, and taking it all off.

Jean had very little to contribute beyond the fact that Allison was also embracing the queer side of life, but Jeremy made them both laugh by speculating about it.

‘Hey, now we can all double date,’ Jeremy joked. Jean was briefly glad he wasn’t there to see him get flustered at the idea.

‘I mean, if that’s something you’d be into?’ Jeremy definitely didn’t sound nervous about it.

‘Uh.’ Jean was too stumped by the concept of _dating Jeremy_ to move on to double dates. ‘I mean, yeah. Sure. After a while.’

Jeremy sure was in a good mood. ‘Jean, I’m not suggesting that we spend our first date with two other people,’ he said, sounding amused. ‘I’m just kidding around.’

‘Right.’ Jean bit his lip. ‘So, you do want to go on a date?’

‘Can you pick me up in an hour?’

Jean laughed. ‘Sure, no problem. What are you gonna wear?’

‘I thought a pair of rubber gloves and a jock strap, how’s that sound?’

Jean bowed his head, trying to muffle his laughter in case the girls came in wondering what’s funny.

‘I like that,’ he finally managed, trying to fight back his grin. ‘Sounds like a good look.’

‘I knew you wanted to see me naked.’

There was something so deliciously addictive about Jeremy’s tone tonight. All the melancholy was gone - he was irresistible. Jean could have flirted back and forth with him all night. Maddening though it was that he couldn’t see him in person, Jean was having a good time with it.

‘Yeah, I do,’ he said, voice low. ‘I hope I wasn’t being too subtle.’

‘It did take me a little while to figure you out,’ Jeremy admitted. ‘But there were a couple of moments where I started to guess you might want to take me out.’

‘You mean that moment where I climbed on top of you and gave you a hickey?’ Jean had literally never talked like this in his life.

‘No, that’s when I knew you wanted to fuck me,’ Jeremy said frankly. A flush of excitement coloured Jean’s neck; he threw a guilty look at the wall behind which his child was playing happily.

‘I was always kind of nervous that that’s all you wanted to do,’ Jeremy went on. ‘But there were little moments … Like when I was a mess and you put me in your bed. Or when you told me you thought I was better than the life I’m living. When you welcomed me into your family and made me a part of it instead of just a visitor … that’s when I started to think maybe I mean something more to you.’

Jean hadn’t been able to remain seated during Jeremy’s little speech. He was now wedged in beside the refrigerator trying to keep his feelings from spilling out all over the floor.

‘I hope you’re not - wondering anymore,’ he said, haltingly.

Jeremy was silent for a minute. ‘I can’t wait to see you,’ he said, voice low. ‘Honestly I’ve had such a good day, and I’m going out with my sisters tonight … but it feels strange not having you with me. I miss you. I want you. I don’t want to wait anymore.’

Jean was brimming with desire - and frustration.

‘Maddie’s recital is this week,’ he said. ‘I want you to come for the whole thing, and then come to the party at Allison’s after, and- and then come home with us.’ He hesitated, wondering if that had been too forceful. ‘Is that - would you - ’

Jeremy interrupted him, his voice full. ‘Jean. You ask me these things like they’re a big inconvenience for me, or like … like they’re not what I want to do more than anything else.’ He sighed. ‘We are gonna talk about this. But not on the phone.’

Female voices called out in the background, snapping them both out of it.

‘I have to go,’ said Jeremy quietly. He sighed, then said in a stronger voice, ‘We’re gonna sort this out. Can I come over and see her highness tomorrow?’

‘Like you even have to ask,’ Jean replied, helpless.

Jeremy’s sisters were getting louder. ‘They’re gonna give me shit if they find me on the phone,’ he told Jean. ‘They’ve been trying to find out about you all weekend. I’m just afraid they’ll actively hunt you down and give you some sort of capital T Talk.’

‘I think I could handle that,’ Jean said. ‘Send them my way. I’ve got my intentions for you all lined up and alphabetised.’

‘Well keep that list for me then,’ Jeremy murmured. ‘Fuck - Christ I’LL BE THERE IN A MINUTE!’ he hollered off into the distance, and Jean laughed into his sleeve.

‘Go on,’ he told him. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Come over as soon as you get home.’

‘My train gets in at noon. I’ll make it in time for lunch,’ Jeremy promised.

‘I’ll iron the tablecloth.’

Jeremy’s laugh was a beautiful, wonderful thing; it kept Jean warm inside long after they’d said goodnight.

Through the power of juvenile persuasion and cute smiles, Maddie and Rose ended up sleeping in a cosy nest of pillows and blankets in their tent city. Jean had lain down with them for story time and had to admit that it was pretty comfortable in there (though he did have some trouble getting out again). Rose had never seen _Starlight_ before, and she asked if she could keep it with her for the night.

‘We can get you one. It’s Papa’s,’ Maddie told her importantly. ‘And he can, like, sign it for you.’

‘Cool,’ Rose replied. Jean saw Maddie considering the word _cool_ , pursing her lips around it silently.

‘Now you can talk for a little while, but then straight to sleep, ok?’ Jean said, head sticking in through the sheets. ‘And keep this piece of tent pulled back so it doesn’t get too hot.’

They were very eager for him to be gone, waving him away pointedly. Jean couldn’t hang out in the kitchen since there were no doors to separate them, so he retreated to his bedroom. He couldn’t work - the light wasn’t right - but it was too early for bed, so he messed around on the internet for a while. He wasn’t as thrilled with the free time as he thought he’d be, and he ended up thinking about Jeremy, as he usually did when he was idle. He couldn’t jerk off, not with the two asleep in the front room. But he found that he was perfectly content to just lie in bed and think about Jeremy.

He heard a bit of whispering and giggling during the night, but nothing that warranted a disciplinary visit. Their late-night antics actually kept them asleep later than normal, so Jean got to enjoy a bit of a lie-in.

Eventually their clamouring for pancakes could not be ignored, so pancakes were concocted via team effort. Jean didn’t have the heart to deconstruct tent city while the girls were still living the fantasy, so he let them get washed and dressed while ducking in and out of the sheets for their clothes and hairbrushes.

They headed off to Allison’s together, stopping on the way for some juice. Maddie and Rose were in fine form, swinging their arms and sipping their juices and letting Jean carry everything. They reached Allison’s block and Jean glanced ahead at her house automatically; what he saw made him hustle the girls right across the street to look at the flowers, which neither of them found as weird as they really should have.

‘Look how pretty they are,’ he said loudly, pointing haphazardly at the lawn while throwing a glance over his shoulder to where Allison was kissing her all-too familiar date goodbye at _ten thirty in the morning_.

Rose tugged on Jean’s t-shirt. ‘I gotta pee,’ she told him, shaking her juice as evidence. ‘Can I go home now?’

Renée was heading back towards the train station, so Jean made them walk up to the zebra crossing even though there was absolutely no traffic on the street.

‘Gotta pee!’ Rose scampered on ahead and Jean couldn’t exactly hold her back when she was literally fifty feet from her home. He and Maddie followed her up the steps to where a flushed Allison was opening the door. Rose bobbed up and down impatiently and then dashed past her to the toilet.

‘Are you - oh ok, you’re peeing.’ Allison tightened her robe around her waist as Jean handed her Rose’s backpack with a bemused look on his face.

‘Did you guys come from the train?’ Allison asked, giving Jean an anxious look.

‘We did, but we crossed the street to look at the flowers approximately four minutes ago,’ Jean said pointedly. ‘And we didn’t see anything else of interest whatsoever.’

‘Papa I gotta pee too.’

‘Well go ahead.’ Jean shooed her inside and then stepped in after her.

Silence seeped into the apartment. Allison pulled her robe tighter and avoided Jean’s eye, while Jean tried to look anywhere but at her.

‘So,’ he said finally. ‘Good night?’

Allison slanted a glance at him, then snorted with laughter. She had the filthiest laugh; Jean couldn’t help joining in.

‘What are you laughing at?’ Rose asked, poking her head out of the bathroom. Jean could hear Maddie peeing shamelessly inside.

‘Nothing, baby,’ Allison smiled at her. ‘Hey, can I have my hug now?’

Allison thanked Jean profusely for taking Rose, and promised to have Maddie in return. Jean said yes for both their sakes, but privately thought he’d need some counselling before he could let Maddie leave him for an entire night.

That said, if he was planning on making a night of it with Jeremy, he might have to start considering that option.

Back at home, Maddie crawled into tent city for a nap while Jean got some work done in the kitchen. They were almost ready to go with _Sily Lily’s_ farm escapade, and Jean was fervently looking forward to his payday. He also had a few preliminary offers and introductions in his inbox; two periodicals and one small press. Jean normally ignored these, filing them off to his neglected “to-do” folder. But this morning he opened them, scanned their contents, and then reread them more closely. Unlike his daughter, Jean did not enjoy change. But he was already reshuffling and adjusting to make space for Jeremy in his life; maybe that’s why he was finding it so easy to consider changes in other areas of his life too.

The knock on the front door startled them both. Maddie bolted from the sheets, her head swivelling towards Jean. There was a beat where they gaped at each other, and then Maddie was scrambling for the door, Jean right behind her.

Jean was expecting Jeremy to be tired, and certainly hungover. Instead he looked the peak of health as he swooped Madeleine up into his arms and swung her around to the sounds of their delighted laughter. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and his skin had a healthy tanned glow. His dark eyes shone and he smelled like flowers and outdoors.

‘We forgot!’ Maddie was betraying them both. ‘I fell asleep and Papa was doing work and we forgot!’

‘You fell asleep? In the middle of the day?’ Jeremy was smiling at her, and pressing kisses to her soft cheek. ‘Mm, you’re so cuddly. Hang on a sec, I gotta kiss someone else.’

Jean was still staring at them both dreamily, so he was taken by surprise when Jeremy curled his fingers around his collar and pulled him towards him. Too startled to do anything but respond, he let Jeremy press a quick kiss to his lips.

Maddie giggled quietly during the endless moment where Jean was kissing Jeremy; her little hand rested on Jean’s shoulder, and Jeremy’s bigger one was on his arm.

When he pulled back, there was a brief moment where all three of their heads were close together.

‘Ok Maddie, now I need a kiss from you too,’ Jean mumbled. She shrieked as he planted a big kiss on her cheek. Jean looped an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and pulled them both in against his body, nosing at Jeremy’s hair.

‘Maddie, what on earth is this contraption?’ Jeremy was asking, gesturing at tent city.

‘Me and Rose’s house,’ Maddie explained. ‘Papa built it.’

‘She was threatening to move out if she didn’t get her own space,’ Jean murmured, still basking in their closeness. ‘I had to do something.’

‘It looks very cosy,’ Jeremy said approvingly. ‘Can I come for a visit?’

They all crawled into the sheets and lay down in the pillow nest. Jeremy had Maddie cradled in his arms, where she was positively preening. Jean lay on his side and listened to the two of them catching up, not far from preening himself. One of his hands rested easily on Jeremy’s hip.

Eventually Maddie got bored of lying around between them and scampered off to do something else. Jean heard her go into her bedroom, presumably in pursuit of a story for them to read her. They might only have a minute.

Jeremy pushed Jean on to his back and leaned over him for a kiss. Jean reached up to touch his face, kissing him back with enthusiasm.

Jeremy pulled back slightly. ‘I’m sorry I kissed you in front of her, I didn’t- ’

‘It’s fine,’ Jean insisted. ‘I wasn’t sure what she’d think but - uh, she thinks we’re getting married anyways, so.’

Jeremy snorted and dropped his head on Jean’s chest. ‘Oh,’ he laughed. ‘I guess we’ve already been planting ideas in her head.’

‘Could be worse,’ Jean replied, stroking his hair. ‘She could be asking why Papa’s not looking for a Mama.’

Jeremy raised his head. ‘Speaking of,’ he said, a glint in his eye. ‘Did you find out who Allison’s date was?’

Jean tapped his nose. ‘You’re so gossipy. I’ll trade you for it.’

Jeremy bumped their noses together. ‘What can I offer you?’

Jean smiled. ‘I was going to suggest you tell me about your weekend,’ he said lightly. ‘But I don’t want to haggle for that. So I’ll settle for another kiss.’

‘Rookie mistake, I’d have given you one for free.’ Jeremy kissed him, and it sank deep into Jean’s bones. They brushed their lips and noses together for a few moments, savouring the intimacy.

‘Allison’s dating the ballet teacher,’ Jean whispered.

‘No WAY.’

Jean burst out laughing at the startled look on Jeremy’s face.

‘Don’t tell Madeleine,’ he warned him. ‘I practically had to throw the kids into the park across the street because she was only leaving when we arrived.’

Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Damn. Get it Allison.’

‘First date, too,’ Jean nodded. ‘That’s gay culture for you.’

Jeremy smirked at him. ‘Oh, really? You guys like to fuck on the first date?’

Jean couldn’t help blushing - Jeremy’s crass mouth was seldom heard and always unexpected - but he replied, ‘Some do. On an unrelated note, when am I taking you out?’

Jean could feel Jeremy’s laughter against his chest. ‘If I tell you how hot I find that while we’re lying in your daughter’s homemade tent, will you throw me out?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then that was really fucking hot,’ Jeremy breathed, leaning in to kiss him again.

‘Ok, but seriously,’ Jean mumbled against his mouth. ‘I want to take you out - when are we doing that?’

Jeremy pulled back slightly again, shifting his body so he was propped up on one elbow over Jean.

‘Well, lets see,’ he mused. ‘I’ve gotta work a lot this week. Not Wednesday, obviously.’ Wednesday was Maddie’s recital. ‘But I might be able to get someone to cover for me later in the week. What day suits you?’

Suddenly they were planning a date and a time and Jean felt butterflies colliding in his stomach.

‘Friday?’ he suggested. ‘It’s, uh, a good day for my sitter. But if you’ve gotta work this week then don’t put yourself under pressure. We can do it some other - ’

Jeremy shook his head. ‘No, no, I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t want to wait.’

Jean paused. Then he smiled slowly. ‘Alright. Lets say Friday then.’

Jeremy kissed him again, deeper this time. He ran his fingers through Jean’s hair and smiled against his mouth. Jean’s eyes were half open; the fairy lights glittered in the sheets above their heads, and the heat of the afternoon wrapped around their bodies.

They could have talked. They probably should have, in that quiet moment where Maddie was distracted and they were thinking ahead together. But it was too easy to slip into bliss, luxuriating in the feeling of Jeremy’s body against his.

Maddie didn’t give them long together. She reappeared with a new book and a drawn out ‘Hellooooo?’ She reacted to them kissing like it was a friendly game of Scrabble; she climbed over Jeremy’s legs and stepped on Jean’s hand until she was sitting on his chest.

‘How about we let Papa go back to work and you and I read the story?’ Jeremy asked, pulling Madeleine backwards on to him. ‘And you can tell me all about your recital.’

Much as he wanted to laze around and cuddle with them, Jean really did have a lot of work to do. He kissed Jeremy and ran a hand over Maddie’s head before worming his way out of tent city and back to his desk. And he went with new purpose; to both his drawing tablet and his inbox.

 

Jeremy was busy either working or sleeping for the next few days, and he worked a half shift at Hennessy’s on Wednesday afternoon, normally his day off. Maddie’s recital was at six, but she was at Abby’s until two. He had a ton of work to do before that, including run of the mill dad chores like groceries and laundry and cleaning up goddamn tent city, but he just couldn’t resist hopping on a train into the city.

Jeremy was a far cry from his usual bubbly, charming self. He was leaning against the back of the bar staring into space, his expression the same as that of some of the more professional drinkers lurking in the shadows. According to Jeremy, Hennessy’s did a younger and livelier trade in the evening, but afternoon drinking was a different breed of cliental.

Jean’s eyes strayed to the back wall, and he snorted in amusement when he saw his own bare torso hanging there, delicately lit by sparkling lights.

‘I look good up there,’ he remarked, startling Jeremy out of his reverie.

‘Dan’s idea,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘But it was a good one.’

Jean looked at the wall with interest. ‘This is lovely,’ he said, moving closer to inspect it. ‘It’s so eye-catching. What are all these?’

Jeremy made an aborted move to stop him as Jean reached for a folded flowery napkin. Two names were written on it - _Adam <3 Ruby. _He put it back, then opened a yellow post-it. _Jenny <3 Alison._ A page torn from a notebook. _Diego <3 Carmella. _

Jean glanced back at Jeremy, who was pretending to clean a glass.

‘Abbey’s going to take Madeleine on Friday evening,’ Jean said, still examining the wall. ‘I can pick her up in the morning. Her first sleepover; she’s excited.’

He turned around. Jeremy had left the glass down.

‘Friday,’ he repeated, that sweet smile curling at the edges of his mouth. ‘Ok.’

Jean nodded, coming to lean on the bar. ‘I could have told you tonight,’ he admitted. ‘But I couldn’t wait.’

Jeremy’s sweet surprise bloomed in Jean’s heart.

‘I’m glad you did,’ he said. ‘It’s weird seeing you in here. Like seeing a flower in the desert.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t say a fish out of water.’

‘I would never,’ protested Jeremy with a grin. ‘You’re more flower than fish any day of the week.’

‘The compliments just keep coming.’

‘Yes, and I’m meant to be working.’

‘Oh, you look very busy. All that leaning. It’s cute, but not exactly productive.’

‘You think I’m cute?’

Jean see-sawed his hand. ‘I’m partial to you.’

‘You say that like you mean it.’

‘I do mean it.’ Jean dropped the joke. ‘Just in case you’d forgotten. And I’m gonna keep reminding you, if that’s ok.’

Jeremy took his hand in both of his own, and kissed it. ‘Fine by me.’

Jean threaded their fingers together. ‘You’ll come over after work?’ he reminded him. ‘Might help calm some nerves.’

‘She’s nervous?’

‘Ah, no,’ Jean admitted. ‘Me.’

Jeremy snorted with laughter. Jean smiled back, chafing their hands together briefly before standing back to leave.

‘Oh, hang on.’ Jean reached into his back pocket and pulled out a crumpled receipt and a stubby 2B pencil. He made a quick little scribble, and the pushed it across the counter.

‘This a tip?’ Jeremy asked lightly, taking it from him.

Jean shrugged. ‘Sort of.’

 

Jeremy didn’t need to look at the receipt to see what it said. After Jean had left, he gave the paper a little kiss before tucking it into a bit of crumbly brick beside the corner of Jean’s painting. Heart thumping loudly, he went back to work.

 

The recital tutus were stored in the school hall, so Madeleine would be wearing her usual ballet outfit for the warm up. Jean was ironing his trousers and having kittens over the idea of Maddie doing whatever “warming up” was meant to entail. “Kinda like Jeremy-yoga” had been Maddie’s vague explanation. She and Jeremy liked to do yoga in the hallway sometimes, but it mainly involved a lot of tumbling and tickling each other so Jean wasn’t sure how reliable that comparison was.

Jean gave Maddie a light dinner at 4, and packed some snacks for her later. The little kids would be on first, so that their parents could take them home at intermission if they were getting too antsy. Madeleine was insisting on staying for the whole thing, so Jean had some crackers with peanut butter and celery sticks. Maddie’s favourite.

Jeremy arrived shortly after that, looking so damn handsome in a short-sleeved white shirt patterned with little navy birds. His skin was still glowing with his mini-vacation tan. Maddie let him in while Jean was doing the washing up; they waved to each other across the apartment.

‘Papa do my hair now?’ Maddie asked excitedly, skipping into the kitchen.

Jean was still up to his elbows and wearing shorts and an old t-shirt. He blew a lock of hair off his forehead and tried to clear his head enough to answer her.

‘I got it,’ Jeremy said, putting a hand on his arm. He winked. ‘I’ve been practising.’

So Jean was allowed a full twenty minutes to himself where he could shower and shave and get dressed in peace, and when he came out Jeremy had braided the sides of Madeleine’s head and twisted it all up into an elegant knot.

‘Wow,’ Jean said, impressed. ‘Very professional.’

‘We haven’t added the glitter yet,’ Jeremy said, significantly.

‘Gonna be sparkly,’ Maddie said, holding the tube of silver glitter up to the light.

Madeleine also insisted they wear a bit of glitter too. ‘So they know who’s my family,’ she explained.

‘Who’s “they”, Maddie?’ Jean asked.

‘Ssh, not the question,’ said Jeremy. ‘Glitter where, Maddie?’

They each got a glittery swipe across the cheek until everyone was sparkling to Maddie’s satisfaction.

The show didn’t start until 6pm but Maddie had to be at the school at 5:30, so the three of them set out together at 5. It was a gorgeous evening but Jean made them get the train; he didn’t want Madeleine to get tired too soon. She was quiet, most likely concentrating on remembering her routine, which didn’t help Jean’s nerves. The train was crowded, so Jean plonked Maddie on Jeremy’s lap and stood beside them. He wouldn’t have been able to sit still even if there had been a free seat.

‘You weren’t kidding about the nerves,’ Jeremy commented.

‘Not an inherited trait,’ Jean agreed, chewing on his thumbnail. Jeremy startled him by reaching up and gently taking his hand away from his mouth.

‘Calm down, Jean,’ he said easily, kissing the back of his hand. ‘She’s got this.’

Maddie, lost in a world of her own, was getting a lot of fond looks from other commuters. Jean looked down at her and felt his heart tighten painfully in his chest. She was so small, so fragile, and she was so ready to run off into the world and make her own trails. Jean would very much prefer if she followed his own pre-prepared paths - smooth, no bumps. But she had glitter in her hair and was mumbling little things to herself every now and then, and Jeremy was idly clapping her palms together. It was a funny little thing they did when Maddie used him as a chair. He took her hands so gently and pressed her palms together in a silent clap, sometimes resting his cheek on her head. Jeremy was watching the stops above their heads, but his hands still held Maddie’s. As Jean watched, she freed her hands and instead took his, clapping them together as best she could.

His two weird and wonderful loves. Jean did worry about Madeleine - constantly, without fail - but it was a comfort to know that if he couldn’t find the way to guide her through something, or if he found her choices difficult or scary, there was someone who might be help to help them both through it.

 

 

Jeremy was slightly concerned by how quiet Madeleine was on the way to the recital, but he was even more concerned with the way Jean was worrying his lip and speaking in shorter sentences than usual.

‘Stop that,’ Jeremy said. He gently thumbed Jean’s lip out from between his teeth. ‘I thought we weren’t worrying anymore.’

‘I’m not worried,’ Jean insisted, as they joined the other parents going into the school. ‘I’m just … nervous.’

’Yeah, those are totally different.’

Once they were inside, Madeleine started to rush ahead.

‘Maddie hold on,’ Jean said, stepping after her quickly. ‘Let me take your backpack and your coat. And - baby, come here, listen to me.’ He grabbed hold of her arm and crouched down to remind her quietly to keep her underpants on when she got changed into her tutu. Then he gave her a kiss and a hug and wished her good luck.

‘You’ll do great, Maddie,’ Jeremy chimed in, leaning down to give her a kiss too. ‘And have lots of fun, ok?’

Maddie nodded eagerly at them both. Then Renée was calling them from the door and she took off without so much as glancing over her shoulder at them.

‘Better go find our seats,’ Jeremy said cheerfully, trying to distract Jean from any further anxiety. He took his hand to pull him into the hall, and blinked when Jean tightened his grip and linked their fingers together. He hadn’t known if Jean would want to be amongst the other parents while holding his hand, but apparently he either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. Maybe he just really needed the moral support.

So for a minute or two, Jeremy could indulge in this little family daydream he’d been rolling around in his head for weeks now. In this scenario, he and Jean and Maddie were a family, complete and whole, and Jeremy had a steady 9-5 job and weekends off. They woke up together in the morning and went to bed together at night, and they went places and did things together all the time, often while holding hands. Madeleine was always there, of course. Jeremy got to play with her and teach her and take her to school, and then the other less fun parent things like telling her no and missing her while she’s at school and worrying about her when she’s out with her friends. Sometimes, in these little daydreams, Maddie called him dad.

It made Jeremy feel vaguely embarrassed when he thought about silly things like that. But it was hard not to, especially at times like this, when people were probably looking at them and wondering whose child was theirs. Jean did recognise a few people, and even waved at one or two.

‘So which one is Allison?’ Jeremy asked, looking around for a blonde.

‘Trust me, you’ll know her,’ Jean said darkly. ‘She’ll be the one interrogating you. And I can’t even get her back about you-know-who because right now that would be inappropriate even for us.’

Jeremy smothered a laugh. ‘Well, maybe Abby will get here first and sit beside me.’

Jean looked at him frankly. ‘That’ll be worse.’

It was a fairly large auditorium, with the stage and the back area taking up roughly a third of it. The older ballerinas and their families would arrive at the intermission, so the seats were barely half full. Jeremy spotted three women in leotards and cardigans shepherding latecomers behind the curtains, and nudged Jean so he could point out Renée.

‘The little one,’ Jean said. ‘With the rainbow hair.’

Jeremy wasn’t surprised. She had sweet smile and a word for each child, and seemed to be glancing around every now and then as though someone was missing.

‘Allison’s late,’ Jean murmured, glancing at the time. ‘Rose is very fussy about her hair…’

‘There they are,’ Jeremy said confidently, looking over his shoulder. Jean looked too, and sighed with relief at the sight of the two women rushing into the hall, Rose sporting a full head of braids twisted into a bun.

‘There’s still plenty time,’ Jeremy reminded him.

‘I know.’ Jean still looked fidgety. He’d let go of Jeremy’s hand to fidget some more, so now Jeremy took it on to his lap and held it in both hands, chafing it gently.

‘So you wanna tell me what’s bugging you now?’ he asked softly.

Jean glanced at him briefly then back up at the dark stage. Jeremy got the sense that he was a little annoyed at himself.

‘Lots of things,’ he sighed. ‘That Maddie won’t have fun. That she’ll have too much fun and she’ll be miserable without it until class starts again in September. That she’ll fall down and cry. That she’ll forget what I’ve been telling her all week and take off her underpants when she’s changing. That the whole stage will collapse while she’s on it. Literally anything.’ He looked at Jeremy in earnest. ‘I know probably none of those things will happen. But I can’t not worry about them. When she’s not right here in my arms, I’m worrying.’

Jeremy swallowed hard and said something nondescript and reassuring, but inside he was wilting. _He_ wasn’t worried about any of those things. He hadn’t even considered them. Jean hadn’t said it, but this was clearly a “when you’re a parent” moment.

‘I know it’s stupid,’ Jean went on, eyes flickering back to the front. ‘No one else in here is freaking out. Sometimes I think I overreact because I don’t have anyone telling me not to.’

He let that sentence hang, then glanced shyly at Jeremy.

Jeremy tried to smile at him. ‘Well,’ he said lightly. ‘I can do that.’

His tone clearly wasn’t as light as he’d tried to make it, because Jean frowned at him.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ he asked, voice very low. Jeremy was still holding his hand; now Jean reversed it, taking one of Jeremy’s in his.

‘No, you didn’t,’ Jeremy said honestly. ‘I’m just … I just never thought about any of those things.’

That wasn’t a very good explanation, but Jean was used to parsing Maddie’s garbled versions of events and looked at him shrewdly.

‘The day you had her out in the city, when I was sick,’ he said abruptly. ‘What did you do when she had to use the toilet?’

Jeremy froze. ‘I, uh …’

‘Did you send her in with some random stranger?’

Jeremy thought about getting up and just running out of the building. ‘I - yes but - I was two seconds away from going in myself anyway, but the women looked super normal and had a daughter and I was freaking out the whole time - ’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Jean said, turning back to look at he stage with a tiny smile. ‘Maddie snitched. But I do the same thing, if there’s no disabled toilet. And my heart is in my mouth the entire time, too.’

Jeremy stared at him, his beating heart trying to catch up.

‘So … you’re not angry.’

Jean snorted. ‘Do I sound angry? Jeremy, how many times do I have to leave my daughter with you before you get that I trust you completely? You just need a few more scares. I should send you two to the grocery store together. You’ll never sleep again. _That’s_ parenting.’

Jeremy thought he’d need to go over this conversation in his head several times before it finally sank in. Jean was stroking his thumb across Jeremy’s palm and still throwing sharp looks at the two emergency exits, but this time Jeremy didn’t call him out on it. He had to let his forehead rest on Jean’s shoulder for a few moments, eyes closed, before he could fully return to the situation. When he did, there was a warm glow in his chest and a smile on his face that he couldn’t have fought down even if he’d wanted to try.

Allison hustled herself into the seat next to Jean and, after throwing a quick wave at Jeremy, began hissing at Jean about this and that, running harried fingers through her hair and crossing and uncrossing her legs. Jeremy couldn’t catch what she was saying, and although Jean had a head leaned towards her to listen, his hands were still occupied with Jeremy’s. Jeremy received a distraction of his own in the form of Abby Winfield; she arrived holding Kevin’s hand, with her bulky, disgruntled husband in tow. Jeremy was surprised to see him here; so too was Jean, judging by the look on his face. Abby set them down beside her and then turned to Jeremy with a light in her eyes.

’So,’ she began. ‘Friday night.’

Jeremy knew Abby and her family only in passing; he waved at Kevin in order to scrounge a moment to think.

‘It’s ok, I’m not going to interrogate you,’ Abby smiled. ‘But I’ve been trying to get that boy to have a little fun ever since he moved in.’

‘Fun is definitely on the agenda,’ Jeremy assured her.

‘Sometimes they need a little persuading,’ Abby said knowledgeably. ‘I always have to twist David’s arm into going out, and then he has more fun than I do.’

Jeremy thought briefly of how Jean had climbed on top of him and left kiss marks on his neck; how he had wrapped his arms around him so tightly and acted like Jeremy had been at sea for a year when he’d gotten home on Sunday.

‘I don’t think I’ll have that problem,’ he told her with a small smile.

Finally, the lights went down. Jean’s hands clutched Jeremy’s a little tighter. With his free hand, Jeremy followed dozens of others around him and took out his phone discreetly.

Maddie was one of about twelve other children in eye-watering coloured tutus. There were a few gentle titters as they skipped out on to stage, then zoomed in on Renée who was standing on the ground, holding her hand up for their attention. She led them through their routine to sweetly gentle music, but Jeremy hardly saw her.

Madeleine was by far the smallest child on stage. It looked like she’d gotten her hands on that red tutu by virtue of it probably not fitting anyone else. Jeremy shouldn’t have been as shocked as he was by her performance but he wished he had some pearls to clutch because she was absolutely inch perfect on every whirl, twirl, and leap. Her little face was serious with concentration, and the second part of the routine had her move to the front where she positively glowed with the attention. She looked like an angel. A tiny, scarlet-clad, glittery angel. When the song ended, Jeremy’s hands were sore from clapping.

There were two other routines to sit through before the intermission, as the 6-7 and 8-9 year olds took to the stage. Jeremy and Jean spent that time with their heads together, communicating in total silence.

When at last the lights came up, there was a shuffle as parents stood up and the doors at the back of the hall opened to admit the older ballerinas and their parents. Jean and Allison inched their way out of the aisle and went up to the curtain to collect the girls. Jeremy tracked Jean the whole way; he crouched down amidst the other bodies, and didn’t come back right away. Jeremy guessed he was having a moment with her.

David had snuck out the front for a cigarette, and Kevin was looking curiously at all the older kids strutting past in their sweatpants and tight hairdos.

‘Are you enjoying it, Kevin?’ Jeremy asked kindly.

Kevin turned his serious gaze on Jeremy. ‘It looks very hard,’ he said. ‘And it’s not very fast. But it’s pretty.’

‘Kevin’s a sports fan, like his parents,’ Abby told him. ‘I’ve been trying to tell him that ballet _is_ a sport.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Sure is,’ he told Kevin. ‘Maddie has to practise all the time. It’s no joke.’

Kevin took this in and returned his eyes to his lap in order to think about it. Abby raised an eyebrow at Jeremy.

‘To Kevin, nothing is a joke,’ she whispered, with a smile.

Jean returned with a jubilant Madeleine - now with 100% less tutu - in his arms. Allison trailed with Rose, who was talking a mile a minute. The two girls spent a solid five minutes leaning across their parents to jabber at each other until Jean produced snacks. That got Maddie’s attention, and she snuggled down in Jean’s lap with crackers and juice and let Jeremy kiss her little head and tell her she was great.

‘Did you have fun?’ he murmured, nuzzling her soft cheek.

‘Yes,’ Maddie replied firmly. ‘I want to do it again. Papa when can I go back to ballet, is it next week?’

Jean threw a nervous look at Jeremy. ‘Uhhh. Not quite next week. How about we talk about it later?’

‘Ok,’ Maddie said easily, munching her cracker. Jean, eyes closed with relief, pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The rest of the recital was decidedly more impressive than the earlier showings. Some of the kids were really talented, and had solos. Madeleine watched them with rapt attention. Jean picked cracker crumbs off her tights and caught Jeremy’s eye every now and then to smile at him. He had his free arm around the back of Jeremy’s chair. Most of Jean’s lap was covered by Madeleine, but there was still a bit of knee exposed. Jeremy let his hand rest there, and Madeleine promptly draped her leg over it.

Finally, all the twirling was done. The last ballerinas curtsied and trooped off stage, and then the lights went to up thunderous applause and cheering. The parents were an enthusiastic bunch. Madeleine was cheering and waving a celery stick in the air like a lighter. Renée came out and gave a short speech thanking the parents and congratulating the children, and said she’d be in touch about dates for fall classes. Madeleine was already making shapes to go. Jean went for the bag at his feet but Jeremy was already there with it, digging out her jelly sandals and cardigan.

‘Foot, please,’ he asked Maddie, holding out his hand. Jean tweaked her little nose as they got her all ready to go, and she offered them celery in return (both declined).

Abby and her family were heading out for a late dinner, but several other families were invited to Alison’s afterparty. Alison was trying to round them all up but seemed rather distracted by the presence of Renée, who’d drifted in amongst them.

‘Alright, lets go,’ Jean said, hustling Maddie over towards them.

‘Hang on.’ Jeremy put a hand on Jean’s arm. ‘I uh, have something for her.’

He reached into Jean’s bag and removed the single red rose from its clear sleeve. He’d hidden it there before they’d left the apartment, and it had thankfully held up under pressure.

‘Madeleine.’ He was trying to be serious but it was impossible not to smile at her eager little face. ‘This is for you. Bravo.’

Madeleine’s eyes zeroed in on that rose and went round as saucers. She reached out to take it from him (Jeremy had already removed the thorns) and giggled wildly once she had it.

‘Thank you,’ she managed. Then she darted forward and hugged his leg fiercely. Jeremy reached down and swung her up into his arms for a proper hug, then blew a big kiss on her neck to make her screech.

‘Still my baby,’ he teased her. Madeleine bobbed him on the cheek with her rose, then squirmed to be released. Jeremy set her down and smiled as she charged over to show the flower to her adoring fans.

‘That went over well,’ he said, turning to Jean.

Jean had a very odd expression on his face. Before Jeremy could question it, he was leaning in.

It wasn’t their longest kiss, or their most passionate. It was really just a peck, one soft press of the lips. But when Jean drew back he looked so intense that Jeremy felt a flush blooming on his neck.

‘I - can we talk tonight?’

Jeremy nodded, mutely. This had been coming for a while, and he’d been avoiding it. After tonight, he didn’t want to go another day with any uncertainty between them.

Allison led the way home, with three other parents and a gaggle of children trailing her. Maddie and Rose were full of beans, racing each other up the path and shrieking at the top of their lungs. Jean had returned the rose to its sleeve in his bag for safekeeping.

‘I’ll press the petals in a book for her,’ he said as they ambled along at the back of the group. ‘There’s an old edition of Winnie the Pooh I’m keeping for her until she’s older and can appreciate it.’

Jeremy smiled, thinking of his own flower pressed between his copy of _The Jungle Book_. ‘That’s a good idea,’ he agreed, squeezing his hand. Jean had taken it as soon as they’d left the school and showed no signs of letting go. Their fingers fit perfectly together. ‘So, is there going to be cake at this?’

‘I’ve been reliably informed that there will be cake,’ Jean replied. ‘And probably juice. Maybe ice cream if you’re lucky. Allison likes to put out a spread.’

Jeremy glanced ahead. ‘Renée is here,’ he said softly. ‘They seem to really like each other.’

Having been abandoned by Rose, Allison was walking alongside Renée, laughing and talking with her. To an outsider it might have just looked like two good friends - which is why the other parents may have been curious about it.

Allison’s house was fully decked out for a party, with bunting and balloons and a big chocolate cake. Jeremy was mildly disappointed that he hadn’t known about the extent of the baking - he could have contributed something.

The kids fell on the treats while parents tried to persuade them to change clothes. Maddie flat out refused to take off her ballet clothes and Jean didn’t look particularly bothered about making her.

‘It’s her night,’ he said, shrugging, to Jeremy. ‘I’ll probably have to buy her new ones in September anyways.’

Allison was pouring wine for anyone over five feet, and both Jeremy and Jean gratefully accepted glasses. ‘This is why I don’t drive,’ Jeremy told Jean.

‘Sure, that’s why,’ Jean agreed, sipping his own. ‘Not because you can’t.’

‘It’s not that I _can’t_ drive,’ Jeremy protested. ‘I just haven’t learned yet.’

Jean rolled his eyes. ‘That is such a Madeleine response,’ he said dryly. They were hiding in the kitchen; Jeremy was hoping to keep Jean close instead of letting him get roped into any hosting duties, by virtue of knowing Alison the best out of the other guests present.

‘I was so proud of Maddie tonight,’ Jeremy said abruptly. He could just see her through the door, a big wedge of cake in her hand and an even bigger smile on her face. ‘Like, she just got up there and did it, and she was perfect. She didn’t even have to be _so_ perfect, but she was. I recorded the whole thing, by the way,’ he added to Jean. ‘In case she wants to see it.’

Jean smiled a little at him. ‘I was hoping you would,’ he admitted. ‘My hands were shaking really bad.’

Jeremy reached over and squeezed one of them. ‘She was so good,’ he said softly. ‘And so happy, too. That’s down to you.’

Jean’s hand tightened on Jeremy’s. ‘And you, too,’ he said, softly. ‘Just being there was enough to make the night special, but giving her that rose …’ He shook his head, and paused for a moment. ‘Sometimes I think you can’t possibly be any more wonderful, and then you go and do that.’

Jeremy had to swallow over the lump in his throat.

The ebb and flow of the party separated them eventually, and they spent a little while drifting around, mingling and socialising and attending to Madeleine. In typical Jean fashion, he knew far more people than he’d been letting on, and was engaged in conversation by several of the parents. Jeremy didn’t mind; Madeleine was determined to show him off, and took out her rose again to parade around for the other children.

‘Who’s that?’ one of the children asked Rose.

‘Maddie’s other dad,’ Rose mumbled around a mouthful of cake.

Jeremy felt a little jolt at her words, and glanced around guiltily to see if anyone had heard. Allison was nearby, but if she’d overheard her daughter she hadn’t reacted to it at all. Jeremy looked around again, and suddenly met Jean’s eyes. His expression was unreadable. Something inside Jeremy tightened.

After Madeleine had released Jeremy, he made his way outside for some air. The night carried a warm breeze that ruffled his hair and cooled the skin on his face. Allison’s little back garden had a small wooden deck, and he leaned against it for a moment, eyes closed. Suddenly the atmosphere inside felt a little too close for him.

The door slid open and shut behind him. Jeremy didn’t look up; a moment later he felt strong arms slide around his waist. It was impossible not to smile; he touched Jean’s wrists and leaned back into his body.

‘Hello,’ Jean murmured, lips against his cheek. ‘Everything ok?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Just a little warm inside.’

Jean held him for another minute in silence, letting Jeremy gather his thoughts. Then he said, ‘I told Maddie we had to run to the store for more ice.’

Jeremy snorted gently. ‘Are we going for a walk, then?’

Jean kissed his neck. ‘If you want to,’ he said. ‘Thought it would be a good time to talk. House full of babysitters.’

He’s a crafty one, Jeremy thought fondly.

They slipped around the side of the house together, stepping over a small bicycle and a folded-up paddling pool. Once they were out on the street Jean took his hand, and they started ambling slowly in the general direction of the store.

‘Do they really need ice?’ Jeremy asked, after a few moments.

Jean smiled at him. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But if I’d said candy she would have wanted to come too.’

Although it was only Wednesday, it seemed to be an evening for parties. Every other garden had friends friends milling about under fairy lights, talking and laughing amidst the clinking of glasses. The air smelled like barbecue and summer. Despite the increase in his pulse as he thought about what he needed to say, Jeremy felt good walking through it all and holding Jean’s hand.

‘There’s something I have to say,’ Jean began. Their walk had slowed to a shuffle. ‘And I want to get it all out in one go.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Ok.’ He stopped, and turned to face Jean. They were standing under an average tree on an average part of the path, but it felt like a spotlight to Jeremy. ‘Go ahead.’

Jean’s expression, usually mild and unreadable and so calming to Jeremy, had a twist of anxiety to it. He bit his lip before speaking. 

‘I know things are already really good between us,’ he said, voice low. ‘We’re having fun. And I know you love Madeleine, and you love hanging out with us and reading her stories and all of that. But … relationships are a little different for me than they are for other people. I can’t do casual. _She_ can’t do casual. You’re either in her life full time, or you’re the next door neighbour.’ He sighed. ‘I should have brought this up sooner, but it was so easy to let things stay … easy.’

A cold block of ice had slipped into Jeremy’s stomach. ‘Jean, if you don’t think I’m the right for this, then say so,’ he forced out, the lump back in his throat. ‘But can I just - ’

‘What? No, no that’s not what I’m saying at all,’ Jean said urgently. He took both of Jeremy’s hands in his own. ‘Jeremy, I know you think you know this, but being a parent is exhausting. No one I’ve ever met in their early twenties wants this with someone else’s child. It’s a huge thing for me to ask … but I have to ask you.’

He closed his eyes briefly, almost like he was praying. Then he opened them.

‘I love you, Jeremy,’ he said. ‘I’m completely, entirely love with you.’

The stars were starting to come out over their heads.

‘I love you so much that I want to see you every day, every night, every morning. You’re my best friend. And if this is too much for you then we’ll figure something else out. But I am asking you if someday, in the future, you might want to be a father to her with me.’

The trees swished in the breeze, raising a brief flurry of goosebumps on Jeremy’s arms.

‘And if you can’t,’ Jean said, voice still so gentle. ‘If this is something you think you may never want … then I really need you to tell me now.’

Jeremy didn’t know which part to respond to first. His heart had started thumping painfully at “love” and had only increased with every word out of Jean’s mouth. He went for the simplest thing - the one he knew for sure, with all of his heart.

‘I love you too. I love you so much, Jean,’ he said, trying to put as much feeling into his words as possible. ‘I’ve wanted to say that for so long.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

Jeremy swallowed. ‘Because of everything you just said. God, I know I don’t have any idea. And I know you can’t just have anyone be a father to her. Jean, love can colour your opinion of a person … I mean, do you _really_ think that I…?’

It was his darkest, most painful thought. He couldn’t even articulate it. The idea that Jean might only be acting on his feelings, instead of what was really best for Madeleine, insulting to Jean but too possible for Jeremy to dismiss out of hand.

Jean frowned again. ‘You think I can’t be objective about you?’

‘I know how that sounds,’ Jeremy said quickly, looking away. ‘I’m sorry.’

Jean stepped a little closer. He let go of Jeremy’s hands and took his face so gently instead.

‘I think,’ he said softly. ‘That you have a very low opinion of yourself. Jeremy, look at me.’

Jeremy finally dragged his eyes up to meet Jean’s.

‘I love you,’ Jean said again. ‘I trust you above anyone else. And you’re already Madeleine’s father. You’re streets ahead of all three of my parental figures combined. Do you want this?’

Jeremy nodded slowly, unable to lie.

‘But you don’t think you’re ready.’

Jeremy nodded.

Jean’s response was a shrug. ‘Then you feel the way I felt nearly five years ago.’

This concept washed over Jeremy like cool water. When he emerged from it, everything looked different. Things started to reshape, and fit together much better than they had this morning.

‘Can we walk for a little bit?’ Jeremy asked slowly. ‘I need to think.’

Jean nodded, dropping his hands and stepping back immediately. ‘Sure,’ he said, quietly. They started walking again, and Jeremy made sure to take Jean’s hand. He still needed to organise his thoughts, but he didn’t want Jean to think that bad news was forthcoming. He twined his arm around Jean’s and linked their fingers, squeezing tightly to reassure him.

They walked past the store and all its bright lights and continued on to the green. Kids were hanging out, smoking and horsing around, the louder kids showing off for those sitting around watching them. When the noise of their group faded into the distance, Jeremy found his voice again.

‘I’m going back to school in the fall,’ he said. He kept his eyes on the path in front of them. ‘My sisters agreed to take on my share of dad’s hospice bills for two years so I could still work part time and support myself. This was a dream that I never imagined myself ever going after. That was all down to you, Jean.’ He looked up at him earnestly. ‘You got me thinking about actually doing something with my life - and I don’t mean that time you made me cry the hallway.’ He squeezed Jean’s hand to let him know he was teasing. ‘And then you gave me a dream I never even knew I wanted. The truth is, I’ve been trying to make myself more like the kind of person who deserves you … and who deserves to be a father.’

Jean pulled up short, and turned Jeremy around to face him.

‘I would have taken you any way at all,’ he said, a startling tinge of desperation in his voice. ‘Working any job, any hours, whatever. I need you to know that, Jeremy. I hope you didn’t - ’

Jeremy touched his face gently. ‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I did it for me. But you and Maddie are a part of me now. So I did it for you, too.’

Jean took his hand and pressed a slow, soft kiss to his palm.

They started walking in the direction of home. Jean talked a big game, but he’d now left Madeleine at a _party_ for over 15 minutes, and was likely getting a bit anxious about it. Jeremy felt lighter than he had in weeks. Carefree, almost.

‘When you go back to school,’ Jean said suddenly. ‘You’ll just be working part time?’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Couple of days a week, yeah. Probably the weekend.’

‘So … you might have to find somewhere else to live. Roommates or something.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Yep,’ he said, airily. ‘Most likely.’

Jean said nothing for a moment. Then he turned with a start. ‘You’re going to live with us, right? That’s what you meant?’

‘Yes, Jean, that’s what I was - ’

Jean cut him off by sweeping him off his feet into a fierce hug. A laugh of pure delight burst out of Jeremy as Jean swung him around, and was silenced only by a kiss once his feet were back on the path.

‘We can take it slow,’ Jean murmured to him, arms wrapped so tightly around him. ‘We have the whole summer before things start to change.’

Jeremy, personally, thought he’d been waiting his whole life for Jean and didn’t really feel like taking it slow anymore, now that he had him. But he wanted to take Jean’s anxiety about asking him to be his partner seriously. If a little bit of time to convince him he was fully locked and loaded was what Jean needed then sure. He could give him that. They had the whole summer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was like pulling teeth and needed such a hefty edit lmao. Tune in next time for the sexy bit xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a thousand years later

Jeremy couldn’t concentrate at work that night. He’d never begrudged his job before, but it felt borderline ridiculous to be putting an exhausted Madeleine to bed and then kissing Jean on the couch - and then having to leave for work. The way it felt to be curled up on Jean’s lap, kissing his neck, feeling Jean’s body relax and unwind beneath him … leaving him for the night was almost unbearable, especially now that he'd dumped his feelings all over the relationship and somehow Jean was still there.

Reluctant though he was to be at work, Jeremy couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He hadn’t told Dan he was cutting back his hours yet, and he hadn’t mentioned anything about Jean. For now, it was his little secret, and it was keeping him warm.

Part of him was concerned about how Dan and Matt would react to his demands. As an upscale bar, they were well within their rights to insist he did either full time work or nothing at all. They were his friends, but they ran a tight ship. A year ago, this would have worried Jeremy to the point of illness. Now, he was already thinking about a few other places where he could easily get part time work with somewhere like the Basilica as his previous job.

It wasn’t until Thursday afternoon that both he and Jean realised they hadn’t talked about Jeremy going back to school at all.

‘You haven’t even said what classes you’re taking,’ Jean said over lunch that day. Madeleine was sulking under the table because Jean had denied her ice cream (the condition had been the full consummation of her broccoli soup, which was now cold), and Jeremy was letting her lean against his legs.

Jeremy’s sisters had pestered him with the same questions. Truthfully, admitting this was the part that scared him the most.

‘It’s not what you think,’ he said. ’It’s a teaching certificate.’

Jean blinked. ‘For …?’

‘For teaching.’

‘Teaching what.’

’Ballroom dancing. _Science_ , Jean. Are you ok?’

Jean was staring at him. ‘I … Yes, sorry,’ he stammered. ‘That was just unexpected. In a good way, a very good way.’

Jean’s brain was slow in catching up with his mouth, but he got there in the end. ‘Maddie, did you hear that?’ he called to her. ‘Jeremy is going to be a teacher. Maybe he can help you with your science homework.’

The idea was intriguing enough for Maddie to emerge from the depths of under-table. ‘What’s science?’ she asked curiously.

Jeremy grinned at Jean. ‘One day, you’ll wish you’d never asked me that question,’ he replied, pulling her up on to his lap.

On Friday, Jeremy got up early and burned off a good chunk of nervous energy cleaning his apartment to within an inch of its life. By the time lunch rolled around he was sweating but still nervous, so he went out with a made-up Laila and Alvarez and a few other friends and let their chatter and energy distract and wash over him. There were a few odd looks when he continuously refused mimosas and Bloody Mary’s - Jeremy enjoyed a boozy brunch as much as the next New Yorker - but he managed to get away without too many questions. Laila collared him at the register when he was getting a juice for the walk home and asked if she could come over later.

‘It’s really important, I need to talk to you,’ Laila said. ‘But I can’t do it here.’

‘Can’t tonight, sorry,’ Jeremy said breezily, fiddling with his straw. ‘We can go for a walk now though?’

Laila shook her head tightly. ‘No, has to be tonight. Please? It’s really important.’

Jeremy’s chest tightened. ‘Oh, really? I seriously can’t tonight. Are you really busy all day?’

Laila fixed him with her most serious expression. ‘Jeremy,’ she said. ‘It is absolutely life or death that I come over tonight. Something monumental has happened to me and I need to talk about it with you _or else.’_

Jeremy’s face did all sorts of painful twisting and stammering until finally Laila, with all the terrible power and wisdom of a queen, pronounced judgement. ‘You’ve got a date.’

The ease at which he’d been caught was dazzling, and left Jeremy dumb for a few crucial seconds.

‘Knew it.’ Laila turned away.

‘Call you later,’ Jeremy called after her, feeling faint.

There was no point in trying to talk her down. Laila would let him be for a while, and then she’d pounce. She and Allison would get along, Jeremy thought vaguely.

In an effort to find his chill, Jeremy lit some jasmine candles and had a bath when he got home. Mulling things over in bath-bombed water calmed him down a little. What little discussion they’d had about tonight had suggested going out to dinner and maybe a movie, and Jeremy couldn’t wait to have Jean all to himself for a whole night. He felt a little bit sneaky in rubbing a new lemon body butter all over himself, but it was for a good cause.

 

 **Jean:** 7pm? X

 

 **Jeremy:** can’t wait xxx

 

He smiled to himself as heard Jean hand Madeleine over to Abby across the hall. He could imagine Jean’s anxiety; he’d probably packed every item Madeleine would ever want or remotely need and then some. He stifled a laugh at Maddie’s impatient and pointed, ‘Ok, bye!’ and wanted to run out into the hall to comfort poor Jean. Dismissed so easily by his baby. He’d be a wreck when she started kindergarten; Maddie would probably want to be left at the gate, or halfway down the street.

Jeremy realised with a start that he’d most likely be there getting dismissed right alongside Jean. It was a quietening thought.

When 7pm finally rolled around Jeremy turned his head towards the door. Jean’s knock came a second later.

They both looked very nice and date-appropriate. Jean was wearing a navy shirt that fit him like a glove, and his hair was nearly combed back to the point where Jeremy’s fingers twitched to mess it all up. Jeremy himself had gone for a light blue shirt with pink lining he’d purchased on Thursday and had been doubting ever since, but it was too late to turn back now.

‘Hi,’ he said, excitement thrumming against his chest like a bird’s wings.

‘Hello,’ Jean said, and his usual deep, gentle voice was like a balm for Jeremy. He instantly calmed down, because it was Jean. His Jean, his love.

‘I got you flowers,’ Jean added shyly, producing a beautiful little bouquet of blooming oranges and reds and yellows from behind his back. Jeremy took them, delight sweeping through him; no one had ever given him flowers before.

‘Oh, they’re beautiful,’ he enthused, sticking his nose into them for a big sniff. ‘Thank you. Come in for a minute, so I can put them in water.’

Jean closed the door quietly behind him while Jeremy went into the kitchen. He dumped a few long-handled kitchen instruments out of a cream vase in the corner and got the scissors out so he could cut the lengths.

‘So where are we headed tonight?’ he called over his shoulder, as he plucked a few small leaves off the stems. ‘You hungry for anything in particular?’

Jeremy himself felt a bit too wound up to eat; his hands were almost shaking as he picked up the scissors. A noise in the doorway made him turn.

Jean was standing there, all 6 foot 2 inches of him, lean and straight-backed. Jeremy’s eyes flickered down the length of him, and something hooked right through his chest and pulled.

‘This is interesting,’ Jean commented. Jeremy followed his gaze, and cringed.

‘I know,’ he said, looking at the appalling pink letter hanging that spelled out COOK. It was hanging beside his fridge. ‘Beth gave it to me. I thought if I hung it up it would look better but it’s still awful.’

‘Are you gonna leave it there?’ Jean asked incredulously, touching a finger to the ceramic gingham letters.

Jeremy shrugged. ‘I figured I’d try it out for a while to ease my conscience before quietly retiring it to a drawer. It can come out again if she ever visits.’

Jean shook his head slowly, possibly suppressing a shiver. It must have taken a lot for him as an artist not to rip it down and trash it. ‘Thank you for showing restraint,’ Jeremy teased quietly.

‘Speaking of restraint,’ Jean said, head turning back to Jeremy. ‘I’m not that hungry.’

His voice was low, and so deep. Jeremy’s stomach dropped hard.

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Well, we can wait a while I guess. Go for a drink first?’

Jean didn’t answer. His eyes were roaming all over Jeremy’s body in a way that made him feel pleasantly perved on.

There was heat in his eyes, and it mirrored Jeremy’s own. They had the whole night, but suddenly Jeremy felt a sense of urgency pushing him forwards.

‘We could hang for a bit,’ he mused, pretending like he didn’t notice anything. ‘Just talk, or whatever.’

‘Or we could stay in and have sex.’

Jean’s eyes were bright, his neck flushed. Jeremy hadn’t even touched him yet.

He swallowed hard. ‘Well.’

‘Sorry. Was that too forward?’

Jean had just offered sex and for some reason Jeremy was still just standing around with a handful of leaves. He opened his fist and they fell silently to the floor.

They should have come together slowly, and appreciatively. They had all evening and all night and all morning, too. When he looked at Jean, all the things he wanted to do with him raced through his mind and left him spinning. How would there ever be enough time?

Then Jean had his hands on Jeremy's face and he was kissing him. He’d crossed the room so quickly Jeremy still had a prickly leaf stuck to his palm; it came off when he dug into Jean’s hair and kissed him back.

They held each other, kisses like bruises on each other’s lips. Hot blood raged through Jeremy’s body, making his breath stutter and his hands shake. Jean was whispering his name between kisses, hands slipping down his body and touching him. They tightened briefly on his arms, hips, and ass. Jeremy leaned in to him, feeling the energy in his body.

‘We can eat later,’ he whispered, with half a smile.

Jean tugged on his lip gently and laughed quietly. ‘Right. Nothing ever closes in New York.’

Jean’s mouth moved down his jaw to his neck, pressing hard. Jeremy’s skin wasn’t overly sensitive but Jean’s mouth was like fire, and it sent something through him. He pushed against him, trying to walk him back towards the doorway, but Jean was more interested in pushing right back against Jeremy, making eager little noises in his throat.

He was immovable; Jeremy felt a thrill of excitement as he realised how much physically bigger and stronger Jean was, no matter how gently his arms went around him now. He was discovering new delights; letting his hands play across Jean’s stomach, soft in the middle, the hard curve of his hip bones under soft skin. Jeremy slipped his fingers under the waistline of Jean’s trousers, seeking more soft skin, and found it hard and unyielding. Drawing in an excited breath, he pushed his fingers down further.

Jean’s abdomen jumped and a tremor ran through him, hands tightening. Jeremy used his other hand to pop the button on his pants so he could slip his hand further down.

He thought could feel Jean’s heartbeat, or maybe it was just his own echoing too loudly in his ears. There was a small clatter as Jean’s back met the wall, and something hit the floor behind his feet. Jeremy didn’t spare it a second of his attention.

‘Fuck.’ Jean’s voice was loud in his ear as Jeremy let his fingers slip down and wrap around his cock. The hardness was a shock, and the girth. Jeremy was pressed so tightly to Jean that he could hardly move his wrist, but all he needed was a few fingers to slide up and down to get Jean breathing fast.

‘You like that?’ Jeremy murmured, smiling as Jean mouthed at his neck. ‘I can do a lot more than that.’

He didn’t feel awkward or weird being this intimate with Jean, or saying things like this. He didn’t feel cold or distant. For once, Jeremy was firing on all cylinders, eager and excited like never before.

Words seemed to be escaping Jean. He pulled back slightly and met Jeremy’s gaze with his own bright grey eyes. They were as excited as each other; it made Jeremy laugh.

‘Come on,’ he whispered, withdrawing his hand to tug on Jean’s hips. ‘Lets go to bed. We have so much to _talk_ about.’

The growl in Jean’s throat was a surprise; the way he caught the back’s of Jeremy’s thighs and hoisted him up into his arms even more so. Jeremy’s laughter burst out of him as he clung to Jean’s shoulders and was carried out of the kitchen.

‘Which way’s your bedroom?’

‘Same way as yours,’ Jeremy reminded him, squeezing tight with his thighs and kissing his face. Jean didn’t seem to be in any hurry, kissing Jeremy back with enough heat that his footsteps stalled and he bumped gently off walls and into surfaces.

‘You’ll give us both concussions,’ Jeremy laughed, bubbling with merriment as Jean banged his knee off the coffee table.

‘Never,’ Jean mumbled, barely pausing to reply. ‘I’d break your fall.’

They made it to the bedroom at last, with no significant damage taken. Jean set Jeremy down so gently on the bed and then climbed on top of him, and together they pulled and tugged at clothes and belts and buttons, tossing items aside in an effort to get at each other’s naked skin as quickly as possible.

Jean’s torso was lean and pale, with a dark line of hair trailing down from his belly button. Jeremy traced his finger down the length of it, and then hooked it around the waistband of his underwear. Jean had a knee between Jeremy’s legs and he was painting a blooming bruise on his neck, but he stuttered and drew in a breath when Jeremy started to move.

Jean was eager and knew what he wanted, but his inexperience showed. It was incredibly satisfying to be able to take him firmly in hand and give him pleasure in all the ways Jeremy knew how. He nudged at him until their positions were reversed, then straddled his hips and licked his palm.

The first stroke made Jean’s mouth drop open. The next was smoother, and the next, slow and slick from the pearly beads already leaking from the tip. He ran his free hand over the skin between his hipbone and crotch, the taught part of his abdomen, slipping it between his legs to the soft skin of his inner thigh. It was a dizzying delight to be able to touch him here, and there, and all of these secret, intimate places, ones he’d never had permission to see before. 

Jean’s hands moved restlessly on Jeremy’s thighs, clenching whenever Jeremy grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Though, that seemed to be all over his body. Already he had thin red lines on his neck and chest were Jeremy had touched him on his way down. Jeremy ran his fingernail lightly over his inner thigh and smiled as he shivered.

‘So sensitive,’he murmured, moving down to his balls. ‘I wonder where else you like being touched.’

He wrapped his fingers around one of them, massaging gently. Jean arched his back and watched him with bright eyes, a red flush spreading up his chest and neck. His whole body responded like an instrument to Jeremy’s lightest touch; he felt almost drunk on the power.

After about fifteen more minutes of being touched like this, Jean was gasping and clutching at Jeremy’s wrists. ‘You are not making me come before I’ve even touched you,’ he growled, holding his hands steady. Jeremy couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

‘Your body just likes me, it’s no one’s fault,’ he teased gently, moving his body forward a little so his own erection, still trapped behind his underwear, brushed off Jean’s. This was more significant for Jean than for Jeremy, and he reacted by sitting up sharply.

Jeremy didn’t even bother to protest, because Jean was kissing him again. There was a building heat between their bodies, and Jean’s hands slid quickly over Jeremy’s body, lighting him up. Their lips brushed, little breaths exchanged on the edges of smiles, teasing.

‘Not to criticise your art, but it doesn’t do you justice,’ Jeremy murmured in his ear as he ran two hands down Jean’s chest.

Jean responded with a kiss to his collarbone and whispered that he wanted to paint Jeremy too. ‘In green and gold and brown.’ He slid his hands under Jeremy’s ass, squeezing firmly. ‘And glitter.’

Jeremy’s laughter ghosted softly across his neck as Jean laid him down on his back again. They stayed glued together for while, and then Jean slid down his body, staying close. He pulled off Jeremy’s underwear and then nudged his knees up on to his shoulders.

Inexperienced or not, Jean had absolutely no hesitation in taking Jeremy into his mouth and swallowing him as far down as he could. Jeremy could feel his throat contracting and Jean’s cheeks hollowing, but he demonstrated a fucking remarkable ability to breathe through his nose. His elbows bent around Jeremy’s thighs and his hands smoothed over his skin as he found a rhythm, sliding Jeremy’s cock down his throat.

‘You taste so good,’ Jean rasped, coming up for air briefly. Jeremy thought this had to be oversexed bullshit because he hated pineapple and probably tasted like nothing but standard dick, but he was so in awe of Jean’s blowjob skills that he could only mumble in agreement and thread his fingers through Jean’s hair.

He’d been quietly confident about his own abilities to hold out under pressure, but he hadn’t factored in just how turned on he’d be by Jean alone. Blowjobs aside, it was a desperate situation to be in. Jeremy struggled not to thrust up into his mouth - bold talk or not, Jean would be taken aback - and instead settled for running his mouth and letting Jean know exactly how good he felt.

Jean paused only once; he freed his mouth and nudged Jeremy’s leg to get his attention. Jeremy looked down and groaned; his mouth was so wet and pink, so debauched, it was like a kick in the chest.

‘Can I fuck you?’ Jean asked, voice a little hoarse.

Jeremy propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Was kinda hoping you would, yeah.’

Jean nodded, kissing his thigh. Jeremy didn’t know if he’d ever been kissed there before; if he had, it hadn’t had any consequence before now.

‘Thought I’d ask,’ Jean continued. ‘In case you wanted it the other way around.’

He glanced slyly up at Jeremy as his lips parted for his cock again.

‘Well,’ said Jeremy, sliding back down with a satisfied grin. ‘The night is young.’

There were condoms and lube in the dresser; Jeremy waved Jean towards them with one hand. They were very adult about it; Jeremy even dragged his ass up to light a few candles and turn on a lamp to set the mood. He probably could have fucked Jean in a public toilet and been deliriously happy about it, but it would be nice if their first time was scented with lavender and vanilla and decently lit.

Jean was very gentle with him. He licked and sucked his cock with the first probing, slicked finger, distracting Jeremy from the painful stretch even though he didn’t really want to be. Jeremy had always liked to feel it.

‘I can take another,’ he said softly, tweaking Jean’s ear.

Jean obliged with another kiss to the side of his cock, and he cradled Jeremy’s leg with one arm as he slid another finger inside him.

Jeremy drew him up by whispering, ‘Come here, kiss me.’ Jean barely broke rhythm; those steady hands and slim, artists fingers worked him gently but firmly as he covered Jeremy with his body. His free hand held Jeremy’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. Jeremy, mindful of how worked up Jean was, limited himself to occasional slow caresses of his cock, and instead let his hands travel all over Jean’s smooth back and chest, over the generous curve of his ass and the soft hair on the backs of his thighs. He could have kissed him forever; little soft presses of lips, tongues darting out to taste, noses brushing and bumping and occasionally opening eyes to peek up at him, to remind himself that it was real.

Eventually he got impatient, eager for Jean’s cock. He reached down to stroke him again in earnest, murmuring that he was ready, that he wanted it. Jean’s breathing was louder, his cock leaking. Jeremy already had the taste of himself in his mouth; now he raised a slick finger and slipped it between his lips, eyes locked on Jean.

He fumbled at the condom wrapper. Jeremy felt the loss of his fingers, and reached to help him. Part of him wanted to do it bare; he’d gotten tested after his last disastrous attempt at sexual exploits, but asking Jean if he was clean was hardly the sexiest addition to their foreplay, so he let him put the condom on, and shoved a pillow under his hips.

Jean was so gentle, it almost broke Jeremy’s heart. He held Jeremy’s legs steady as he guided himself slowly inside him. Once he was halfway in, he drew slowly back out again, and applied more lube. Jeremy, body half seized up with the pain and anticipation, would have laughed if he could have. But he let Jean be cautious and careful with him, and go as slow as he needed to. There was plenty of time to be rough later.

The slide got easier, and the pain burned into pleasure. Jeremy coaxed Jean down towards him with touches and sweet words, until they were pressed forehead to forehead and panting into each others mouths. He wrapped his legs around Jean’s back, ankles crossed, heels resting on his ass, and tilted his hips up for him. His hands held Jean’s face, keeping his wild eyes focused on him.

Jeremy let himself get loud. He let Jean’s thrusts push cries and groans from his throat, giving voice to the hot pleasure coursing through his body. The sound was a stimulant; Jean wrapped a hand around Jeremy’s cock and jerked him in the same rhythm. His mouth found his neck again, and his collarbone, but without the same bruising force. He was too close. His hand moved fast, rougher, like Jeremy liked it, and it dragged a mind-melting orgasm out of him. He cried out, body clenching hard, and Jean gasped as everything got tighter.

‘Fuck,’ he rasped. ‘Jeremy, God - ’

His hips snapped hard, and his hand slid up to clutch Jeremy’s hair. His whole body shuddered, and the sweetest cry escaped his lips as he came. The tail end was muffled as he buried his head in Jeremy’s damp neck.

It was a hot night, and summer crept in to press against them as their breathing started to slow. Sweat gathered wherever they were connected, which was pretty much all over; their chests, hands, legs, faces. Jean was starting to soften, but neither of them moved.

‘I love you,’ Jean said softly. ‘I love you, I love you.’ He trailed slow kisses over Jeremy’s face and neck, cradling him in his arms.

‘Not sure if that counts when you’re still in me,’ Jeremy replied with a wicked grin. He was a level above elated right now. His legs were sprawled out on either side of Jean’s body, and he was pleasantly sore and tired.

Jean drew back slightly and reached down with one hand to ease himself out of Jeremy. It was always unpleasant, even more so when Jean had to move back to tie off the condom and drop it in the trash can. Jeremy drew his legs back together and stretched out a few of the kinks in his muscles. The bed dipped, and then Jean’s body was wrapping around him.

Jeremy laughed and made a noise of contentment as he found himself enveloped. They’d spooned before, but never naked or post-coital, which was a whole other animal. Jeremy indulged Jean for a few minutes before he decided he missed his face. He needed to see this new Jean, and see how he looked at Jeremy now.

He turned his body slowly in Jean’s arms until they were nose to nose. Jean adjusted a bit, one arm still under Jeremy’s body and the other now slung across his naked waist. Jeremy threw a leg over Jean’s for good measure before smiling up at him.

‘Hi.’

Jean smiled back. ‘Hello.’

There were a few moments of silly, loved-up smiling before either could speak again.

‘Did you like that?’ Jean asked. His voice was almost casual. ‘I mean, was it good?’

Jeremy cupped his cheek, full of love and tenderness. ‘It was good, Jean,’ he murmured. ‘It was so good. Didn’t you hear me back there?’ He made a little noise of amusement. ‘You fucked my _brains_ out, Jean.’

He paused, smiling as Jean blushed and looked happy, then asked, ‘What about you? Was it good for you?’

He was never sure. Even now, he wasn’t sure.

In response, Jean kissed him, and didn’t stop for a while.

‘Yes,’ he finally said, mouthing the word against Jeremy’s lips. ‘God, yes. I love you so much.’

‘I love you too,’ Jeremy replied, feeling something surge in his chest.

They dozed off in each other’s arms, sharing the same pillow. Jean’s breath gusted softly over the top of Jeremy’s head. He wasn’t even tired, and didn’t think he’d be able to even nap with Jean’s bare body wrapped around his own. He felt settled and peaceful, and wanted to stare at Jean’s beautiful face all night if he could. He didn’t even recall closing his eyes.

 

Jeremy woke up a little later with cold feet and a full bladder. Jean was still unconscious beside him, and he allowed himself to stare for as long as his urgent bodily functions would allow him.

On the way back, he saw the flowers Jean had brought him still lying on the counter. They really needed water soon. Much as he couldn’t wait to crawl back in beside Jean, leaving them there would bug him.

He ducked back into the room to grab a t-shirt and underwear, then returned to the kitchen. The little window was open, and a warm breeze cooled his skin. He felt colder without Jean next to him, even though he was infinitely warmer on the inside now.

He smiled to himself as he slowly chopped the stems into the sink, smelling the blossoms occasionally. He half filled the jug and then arranged them neatly, trying to get them the way Jean had had them. Jeremy wondered if he’d picked the arrangement himself.

As he dithered over the last few stems, he heard a noise behind him.

Jeremy turned with a smile. Jean was leaning on the door frame, a scene very similar to earlier, except he had a sleepy smile on his face, limbs loose - and he was 90% more naked.

‘Ah, I’m glad you got the “clothing optional” memo,’ he said, smiling and waving a flower at him.

‘Underwear is clothes,’ Jean argued, smiling goofily at him. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Fixing your flowers,’ Jeremy replied, feeling just as silly and happy as Jean padded over to him. ‘I feel bad, I didn’t get you anything.’

‘Sure you did,’ Jean replied. He grabbed Jeremy’s ass and gave it a squeeze, startling a laugh out of him.

‘So bold,’ he teased, taking Jean’s hand and pulling it around his waist. Jean wrapped his other around tightly and hugged Jeremy to his body.

‘You’re so cuddly,’ Jeremy murmured, without thinking. He loved a good post-sex cuddle, but some guys he’d been with before hadn’t been into it, or had laughed at him for it.

Jean stuck his face into the crook of Jeremy’s neck and kissed it. ‘You’re soft,’ he murmured. ‘Can’t help it. Is that ok?’

Jeremy spun around and put his arms around Jean’s neck.

‘I’m very ok,’ he said. ‘With you, and everything about you.’

Jean smiled back at him. He smiled so much these days, and more full than his usual little flicker.

‘You make me very happy,’ he said, quietly, touching Jeremy’s face.

They did the whole stare into each other’s eyes thing for a few minutes, before being interrupted by Jean’s gurgling stomach.

‘Just happy, huh?’ Jeremy laughed, as Jean rolled his eyes in embarrassment.

‘It’s fine,’ Jean muttered, but Jeremy wasn’t letting him away with it.

‘Aww, baby are you hungry?’ he teased, rubbing his palm across Jean’s stomach. ‘I’m sorry, did you want to go get something?’

Jean shook his head, kissing him softly. ‘Do you know any “clothing optional” restaurants on this block? Because if not then I just can’t see the point.’

Jeremy poked him in the ribs. ‘You make a good point. In that case, how about I cook us something sexy and we have cake for dessert?’

Jean’s ears perked up. ‘There’s cake?’

Jeremy nodded to the left. ‘See that big ole cake tin?’

‘Yeah?’

‘There’s cake under there.’

Jean tickled him until they were both stamping around and laughing, pulling at each other and eventually coming together in a kiss.

‘You made the cake,’ Jean murmured against his lips, swaying gently with him. ‘Let me cook.’

So Jeremy took himself off to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and Jean started rummaging in the fridge. As he washed his face, he heard Jean laugh in the kitchen.

He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He looked the same - almost the same. His neck was freshly bruised, each a kiss from Jean. He’d flattened his hair back down, but it still bore tracks from Jean’s fingers. He felt each touch still, like he’d been marked. Jeremy put fingers to his neck, remembering. The tops of his thighs were still damp; he’d been about to wash them, but now felt disinclined.

He wandered back out into the apartment and sniffed the air appreciatively.

‘I’m very good at breakfast,’ Jean allowed, glancing at him over his shoulder.

Jeremy smiled. ‘And I usually sleep through it.’

Jean had bacon and eggs sizzling on a pan, French toast on another, and pancake batter settling in a jug.

‘I didn’t even know I owned half this stuff,’ Jeremy said, marvelling. ‘Can I help?’

‘Knife, fruit.’ Jean jerked his chin at the bowl next to his elbow. ‘Breakfast for dinner is one of Maddie’s favourites.’

As he rustled around, he spotted something pink lying beside the microwave.

‘What’s the Cook sign over here?’ he asked curiously.

Jean glanced at him sheepishly. ‘We broke it.’

Jeremy snorted in amusement. ‘Oh. I think I remember a crash. Is that why you were laughing?’

Jean grinned, eyes on the stove. ‘Pick it up.’

Jeremy hoisted it up by the little pink hanging ribbon on top of the C. A small piece of ceramic stayed on the counter. Holding it out from his body, it became immediately clear that the piece had broken off the second O.

Jeremy put a hand to his face and tried to smother his hysterics.

‘It’s alright, I went into your bedroom to laugh,’ Jean admitted. ‘Parenthood does not equal maturity.’

‘Good to know,’ Jeremy forced out, leaning his head on Jean’s shoulder with tears in his eyes.

They chopped and cooked and flipped pancakes and talked their way through the breakfast process, with the new, rude word hanging stored safely in a drawer (Jeremy was now more fond of it than he had been, and couldn’t bring himself to trash it). Not for the first time, Jeremy found a quiet delight in moving around these domestic spaces with Jean. He found himself looking at him more, watching his face and his hands. He pressed in close and kissed his cheek, inhaling his scent. Jean dropped the spatula.

‘Sorry,’ Jeremy grinned, nosing his cheek.

‘You’re very distracting,’ Jean said, attempting dignity. ‘A hazard in the kitchen.’

‘I’ll set the table,’ Jeremy murmured, kissing him again. ‘Are your legs cold? I’ve got some sweatpants that are too big.’

‘Old boyfriend?’

‘No, I bought them by mistake and lost the receipt.’

Jean smiled. ‘I’m not cold. You are, though.’

Jeremy rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t want to ruin the whole sexy naked thing.’

Jean nudged him. ‘Get clothes, set the table. Before I break something.’

Jeremy went full-romantic with the table, like he’d never been able to do before. Post-sex breakfast-for-dinner with his new life partner? He had to bust out a whole new set of candles for this. They were those tall, sexy ones that sat in little holders and dripped wax everywhere, and smelled vaguely of roses. He didn’t have a tablecloth, but he did have some pretty lace table mats that he got at a garage sale in DC with Laila once. The jug containing the flowers completed the setting. Jeremy took a second to admire the scene, then ducked into the bedroom again for some unsexy but necessary shorts.

It wasn’t until he was sitting down in front of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and strawberries, that he realised he was too ravenous to be sexy anymore.

‘There’s more,’ Jean offered, as they shovelled it down.

‘You’re perfect,’ Jeremy replied thickly, gazing at him through a mouthful of pancake. Their laughter echoed happily around the kitchen, full of self-satisfaction.

They ate their seconds at a more sedate pace, now that their immediate hunger had been sated. Jeremy eyed the bowl of strawberries, wondering how he’d had the foresight to buy an aphrodisiac without even considering the evening at hand.

‘I told Madeleine about tonight,’ Jean said suddenly. Jeremy’s ears perked up instantly.

’You did? What did you say? What did _she_ say?’

Jean shrugged, a little smile on her face. ‘Well, I asked her what she thought a date was. She said it’s when you hold hands and kiss.’

‘She’s not wrong.’

‘Definitely not wrong,’ agreed Jean, bumping their knees together. ‘She got a bit giggly when I told her we might be doing that, kind of happy. So, while I was on a roll, I asked if she was ok with you coming for sleepovers more often.’

Jeremy’s eyes widened. ‘What did she say to _that?_ ’

Jean laughed gently. ‘Well, a sleepover to her is very innocent,’ he reminded him. ‘But she did very kindly offer you her bed for next time, because she thought we looked a bit squashed in my bed.’

Jeremy dissolved on the chair. Jean tugged his hands away from his face while he moaned, ‘This is because I was on top of you!’, and kissed him until he stopped being embarrassed.

‘She’s just a baby,’ he said, taking Jeremy’s hands. ‘It’s very good for her to see us being affectionate. It will inform how comfortable she is with intimacy as she grows up.’

‘You’re a very smart parent,’ Jeremy mumbled against his face.

Jean grinned and rubbed his back. ‘Thanks, I learned through fear and failure.’

Jeremy smiled. He shifted around in his chair a little, trying to get closer.

‘Are you sore?’ Jean asked him quietly, still rubbing his back.

Jeremy lifted one shoulder. ‘A little,’ he replied. ‘I’ve always liked that, though, you know?’

Jean looked at him blankly, and shook his head a little.

‘Oh, you’ve never … ?’

‘No,’ Jean said. He was watching Jeremy carefully.

‘Oh.’ Jean’s honestly was always catching him off guard. There was never a game or an angle. ‘Do you just not want to, or …?’

Jean linked their fingers together, one hand on the back of his neck. ‘I’m not afraid of it, if that’s what you’re wondering,’ he said, gently.

‘Right.’

‘I did offer, earlier.’

‘I know.’

Jean gave him a funny look. ‘Have you ever topped before?’

Jeremy felt himself blushing. ‘No.’

Jean touched his cheek. ‘Do you want to?’

Jeremy’s cheeks could fry an egg but he couldn’t stop his smile. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. Aside from anything else, Jeremy was so physically attracted to Jean that fucking him would be like a religious experience.

Jean nodded, smiling back at him. ’Alright.’

Jeremy’s eyes were on the strawberries again, and Jean’s calm agreement to more sex was sending flutters through his stomach. He let go of Jean’s hand and stood briefly, just enough to swing a leg over Jean’s lap. Straddling Jean was a very comfortably experience; Jeremy fit like a glove on his lap, and Jean’s hands went to his hips automatically, despite his flicker of surprise.

‘Want a strawberry?’ Jeremy asked him. He gave him a kiss, and tasted maple syrup on his lips.

Jean let him put a strawberry to his lips, and bit into it slowly. Jeremy let his thumb linger against his lip, and caught a drop of juice before it could fall. He fed him another, and this time he licked the juice from the corner of Jean’s mouth.

Jean took up a piece of syrup-drenched waffle from his plate. Jeremy ate it from his hand, and licked self-consciously at the maple syrup on his fingers. He felt a bit silly, but Jean sat up straighter and went for another piece. This time Jeremy sucked his finger right into his mouth, and was richly rewarded by Jean’s tiny exclamation and a twitch between his legs.

He let his hand fall down on the bulge. Jean’s cock was fully outlined in his underwear, a vision that Jeremy could wax poetical about. But he had something else he’d like to do with his mouth instead.

‘I think I want dessert,’ he murmured, a cheeky smirk working its way across his face. ‘What do you say?’

‘I will never keep you from dessert,’ Jean said frankly. His thumb still rested on the edge of Jeremy’s lip. ‘But are you sure you’re still, eh, hungry?’

Jeremy grinned. ‘We can stick with this metaphor if you want but I’m getting on my knees in about five seconds unless I hear an objection.’

The ability to still make Jean blush to the tips of his ears was something Jeremy hoped he’d never lose.

The plastic tiles were cool beneath his knees. Jeremy settled back on to his heels and began the joyous task of pulling Jean’s cock out of his underwear and letting it harden fully against his lips.

Unlike Jean, Jeremy had had a bit longer to hone his oral technique, and he was eager to show off. He let the head of Jean’s cock rest on his tongue for a few moments as he tongued the slit, feeling Jean’s thighs tense around him. Then he went in long and slow, sliding it down his throat. He had the skills but not the gag reflex, so he had to take his time. Jean wasn’t overly long, but there was a lot of him. And Jeremy wanted to make it good for him. He wanted to see Jean lose control - he wanted it so badly his mouth was watering.

As he worked him, Jean’s fingers crept into Jeremy’s hair. There was a quiet restraint in the way he massaged his head, like he wanted to do more. Jeremy thought the necessary roughness talk could wait for another time, but there was no mistaking how Jean wanted to push down.

He licked a line up the thick vein in Jean’s cock, pressing hard. Jean’s fingers tightened in his hair.

‘I like that,’ Jeremy said, breaking off just enough to take a breath and whisper. ‘Pulling my hair. You like that too?’

In response, Jean just tugged his head back down. Grinning, Jeremy went willingly.

They’d only had sex once, but already Jeremy felt like he knew how to work him. Jean liked it slow, but hard. He made his movements firm, rhythmic, and pushed him hard before drawing him back just a little. Sometimes he relaxed when Jeremy thought he would tense; he could have spent hours figuring out the best road from A-Z but the way Jean shook and shuddered and grabbed his hair eradicated any shred of patience.

Jean gave him a little warning, the words forced out in half a breath. Jeremy didn’t want to pull back. He let Jean shoot down his throat, cock heavy on his tongue, and felt it go straight to his own cock. Making someone come using just his mouth was a level of power Jeremy that thrived on like nothing else. Jean went from hard to loose in the space of about ten seconds, and Jeremy swallowed all of it. Jean’s hands slid down to caress his face, gentle and careful as always. But the movement was clumsier than normal, and his fingers shook.

Jeremy nuzzled his hands as Jean came down from his high, kissing his palms and fingertips. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It was enough to make him confuse the bitter taste in his mouth for something sweet.

‘Come up here,’ Jean breathed, trying to take his hands. ‘Let me…’

Jeremy didn’t need persuading. He climbed back up to Jean’s lap and willing hands, stopping only to yank off his shorts and underwear, and let Jean kiss him stupid.

‘If I say I love you now, does it still count?’ Jean asked, hands restless on Jeremy’s body.

Jeremy smiled, holding his face in his hands. ‘Not sure, but I’ll take it.’

They whispered it back and forth for a while, and then Jean started touching him back. One hand started stroking him, and the other reached around behind him. Jeremy pulled his t-shirt off over his head and tossed it.

Jean must have been taking notes before. He jerked him off quickly, and at the same time started teasing his hole with a finger. Jeremy was more sticky than wet, but his muscles were still stretched. Jeremy sucked his fingers for him and then leaned forward so he could get one in.

It was dirty and fast, and Jeremy got high off it. Jean’s hands were sure and steady, and Jeremy was able to rock back on to his fingers in a way that made his toes curl. The drag was pretty rough; he reached down and ran a finger over his leaking cock, then leaned back. He nudged Jean’s hand out of the way, and Jean gaped silently as Jeremy pushed his own finger in. His hand stalled on Jeremy’s cock as he watched him, chest thrust out slightly with the angle. Eyes still on Jeremy, Jean ducked in to kiss his nipples. He flicked them lightly with his tongue.

When Jean added his own slick finger, Jeremy dropped his head on to Jean’s shoulder. The feeling was unbelievable; he couldn’t keep it up. He clutched Jean’s shoulders with both hands and let him take care of him. He let Jean take him right over the edge and further, until his come dotted Jean’s exposed cock and abdomen and he was trying to blink the stars out of his vision.

It has to be him, Jeremy thought half-deliriously. He’d never come that hard from just a handjob and a finger up his ass. It had to be Jean.

‘Fuck, I’m in love with you,’ he breathed, hoarse for no reason.

‘Doesn’t count,’ Jean replied, nuzzling his head. His hands were still touching him gently, bringing him back down. ‘Tell me again later.’

 

By the time they found the bed again, it was close to midnight. Jeremy produced the red velvet cake and they ate huge slices of it with their hands, getting crumbs everywhere.

‘I thought you’d be very anti-crumb,’ Jeremy remarked, from his position between Jean’s legs. Jean had pulled his thighs up and either side of his body. Jeremy, he was discovering, was wonderfully flexible. They literally couldn’t get any closer and still manage elbow room.

‘Parent rule #37,’ Jean said, licking cream off his thumb. ‘Crumbs are inherent, get used to them. I thought _you’d_ be very anti-crumb.’ Cake in bed was an unexpected but very welcome surprise.

Jeremy shook his head. He was wearing a thin red sweater half zipped up but his legs were bare and warm resting on top of Jean’s. He was so cute Jean couldn't stop looking at him. He’d missed his mouth twice.

‘I had shitty roommates in college,’ Jeremy explained. He licked his lips for any stray icing, and Jean couldn’t resist ducking in to kiss them. He felt Jeremy smiling at him.

‘You were saying?’ Jean barely pulled back to ask.

Jeremy kissed him back. ‘They threw a lot of parties,’ he explained quietly. ‘When I was trying to study. I got used to eating in bed.’

Jean grinned. ‘I did that too. But I wasn’t studying, I was just lazy.’

Jeremy smiled that sweet, eager smile that Jean was absolutely head over heels for. ‘Did you have written exams in college or was it all practical?’

Jean shrugged. ‘There was some theory,’ he nodded. ‘And I took a history of art class too.’

‘Did you like it?’

Jean thought about that. History of art had faded into the background as he’d chased down other techniques and colour and everything he could think of to find a way to bring himself out on paper.

‘I suppose,’ he said slowly. ‘For a while. Before I got caught up in everything else.’

Jeremy nodded, looking like he wanted Jean to continue. Jean still wasn’t used to talking about himself much, but Jeremy made everything different.

‘College is a bit of a blur for me,’ Jean admitted. ‘I was experimenting with more than just women. But it was also because so much of my pre-Madeleine life is just.’ He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Like a first draft. Something I’d toss and forget because I’d already figured out where I was going next. My childhood memories are non-existent. I wish I could forget my adolescence. I went wild with freedom in college, and then Maddie happened. I feel like my life didn’t start until her. I didn’t become _myself_ until her. And that includes my approach to art.’

Jeremy looked interested, as he idly wiped his fingers on a flowery napkin (Jean hadn’t truly believed he’d be ok with bedcrumbs, and the packet of napkins in the drawer proved him right).

‘First draft,’ he mused. ‘I like that. I mean, not the crappiness but … that’s a good way to describe it, I guess.’

Jean nodded. ‘We’ve all got shit we’d rather forget,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to write mine off altogether. But it’s not who I am now. It’s barely the blueprints.’

Jeremy nodded. His hands were on Jean’s hips, and the two of them were almost too big for this sitting arrangement, but not having him in his arms was unthinkable right now.

‘When my mom left and my dad went downhill, it felt like someone had cut me loose,’ Jeremy said quietly. He didn’t sound melancholic, but thoughtful. ‘And I wasn’t ready for it at all. My sisters flew right away, but I was a homebird. I didn’t want to leave my family, and I couldn’t deal with them leaving me. I guess that stayed with me through college and when that was over I kind of plateaued. Couldn’t go backwards or forwards.’

He turned his head towards the fat stump of candle burning on his windowsill. There were multiple candles lit around the room, but this was the only scented one. It was unmistakably jasmine, the scent so often lingering on Jeremy’s clothes and hair.

‘I burn that one a lot,’ he said. ‘Or, I used to. I have tealights now that smell the same, but that one was my mom’s. It was _huge_ \- like this unreasonably large candle. I’ve melted down some of the wax and made new one, but that’s the original. When things got too crazy in my head I’d light it and just sit beside it for a while, trying to remember when I last felt normal.’

He smiled, remembering. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever understand why she left, but I can’t not love her. I don't even have any bad memories of her, really. She was the heart of our family until she left, despite everything we threw at her. But I … I need that candle less and less, now.’

He glanced back at Jean, and smiled shyly. ‘Not to throw all my eggs in one basket, but you’re my family now.’

Jean brushed their noses together, full of unspeakable love. ‘You’ll always have them,’ he said quietly. ‘But you’ll always have us, too.’

Jean couldn’t imagine right now a world without Jeremy, but he knew from experience that Life tended to happen sometimes. There was a lot of living yet to be done, and he had no idea what that would bring. But that was ok. He fed Jeremy another piece of cake and inhaled the scent of his skin, feeling comforted and settled and at peace.

When they’d eaten so much their stomachs were bulging, Jeremy got up to put the cake away. Jean followed him out to use the bathroom, and lingered in the doorway for a moment just listening to Jeremy pottering around. He’d had a little smile on his face as he’d carried the dish out; Jean wondered what he was thinking about.

As he washed his hands, he found a little bottle of lemon-scented hand lotion that made him smile, and he took the opportunity to admire Madeleine’s painting again. He gently traced her initials with one finger, wondering how she was doing. He’d had a text from Abby earlier to confirm that she’d eaten and was on her way to bed. Jean had thought about calling her, but if she was doing fine then he didn’t want to disrupt things by reminding her that she might be missing him.

Jean found Jeremy discreetly sweeping crumbs off the bed and straightening the covers; he smirked and pretended not to see. He leaned against the door and watched him instead.

‘Baby, you can take a picture if you want,’ Jeremy said, glib, without turning around. Jean ducked his head, embarrassed at being caught.

‘I would, but my phone is charging over there,’ he managed to reply, glancing back up.

‘Borrowing my stuff already, alright. I see how it is.’ Jeremy gave him that cheeky grin that had stolen Jean’s heart.

Jean just shrugged. ‘Well I’d have asked, but you were out cold and too cute to disturb.’

Jeremy turned around and beamed at him. ‘Come here, I want to kiss you again.’

They were still finding the boundaries, figuring out how to be now that their old line had been crossed. Jean knelt on the bed and felt another thrill as Jeremy joined him from the other side. His hands went easily to Jean’s hips, and Jean let his own settle on Jeremy’s shoulders. They kissed slowly, more interested in touching each other. Jean adored of the soft lines of Jeremy’s body, and how he was allowed to touch them now after months of admiring quietly from afar.

Jeremy touched him so gently, exploring the backs of his thighs and the dip in his back, all of his soft spots and rough parts and everything else that Jean had never considered worth touching. He pushed Jean down on to the bed and leaned over him, running a hand slowly over Jean’s bare chest. His fingers were light, just shy of teasing; he wasn’t trying to get Jean worked up. When he pulled back briefly, his face was quiet.

‘I realise this may ruin the mood,’ he said, voice low and serious. ‘But I need to know if you’ve heard from Abby.’

Jean didn’t even attempt to stifle his laughter, despite Jeremy’s protests.

‘Maddie’s fine,’ he assured Jeremy, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a kiss. ‘She’s tucked up in bed and not missing us at all.’

Jeremy softened at his use of “us”, and lay quietly in Jean’s arms for a few minutes.

‘In September,’ he said eventually. ‘When I go back to school, and Maddie starts kindergarten.’

He paused. Jean glanced down at his head where it was resting on his shoulder.

‘Are you just bringing up kindergarten to give me nightmares?’ he asked gently.

Jeremy hummed in amusement. ‘No. And I know you’re not that nervous.’

’ _She’ll_ be fine. _I_ won’t be.’

Jeremy tilted his head up to look at him. ‘You’ll actually be able to get work done in the mornings,’ he said. ‘And I was thinking - I mean, we could work out a schedule. I could pick her up some days, maybe. And maybe mind her some nights - ‘

‘You know you’ll be living with us, right?’ Jean interrupted. ‘You think I’m still going to be doing level one dad stuff? You _will_ be collecting her from school.’

Jeremy’s laughter was infectious and filled the room with warmth. Jean nosed at his face and neck and tried to hide his pleased smile. ‘She’s yours now too, Jeremy,’ he reminded him. ‘Or rather, you’re hers. Get used to it.’

Jeremy pushed himself up over Jean and stared down at him with his big, beautiful eyes.

‘I’ve been think about it a lot,’ he confessed. ‘For a while now. And since the other night, when we talked … just, like, constantly.’

Jean slid his hands up Jeremy’s thighs, touched by the warmth and sincerity in his voice.

‘Tell me.’

Jeremy bit his lip, but he couldn’t keep back his smile. ‘Well, picking her up from school, for starters. And I thought I could take her for lunch, or to a movie, like we did that day. And … I could read to her. I have some books - stories that my mother used to read me and my sisters.’

‘She’d like that.’

‘Would she? I could teach her to bake too.’

‘You could teach both of us.’

Jeremy squinted. ‘Do you really like lemon as much as Maddie says? I feel like I’ve been overdoing it - ‘

Jean kissed him quickly until Jeremy’s body went limp on top of him. ‘I love it.’

‘Good to know,’ said Jeremy, with a dreamy smile.

‘We could go to the beach.’

‘The beach!’

‘It will be nice to have someone to mind the bags.’

‘While I take Madeleine swimming, yes?’

‘She’s afraid of jellyfish. She can mind the bags and you and I can splash.’

‘We’ll bury you in the sand.’

Jean smiled. Between Maddie and Jeremy, he felt like he never stopped smiling these days.

‘You can bake her birthday cake,’ he said softly. ‘We can finally have guests at her party.’

Jeremy stroked his face, gently. ‘All those new school friends to meet.’

‘We’ll take a new family photo.’

Jeremy’s hand stilled. ‘Oh,’ he said softly. Jean reached up and touched his face, brushing his thumb over his lip.

‘You still sure?’ he asked quietly.

Jeremy stared at him for a long time. Then he said, ‘I haven’t been sure of anything since I was seventeen. Not a single thing. But every step with you has been the right direction. So, I am sure. I’m right where I need to be.’

They looked at each other for a moment. Then Jean said, ‘And you don’t mean …?’

‘I don’t mean between your legs, no. Well, not specifically.’

‘Will we always find a way to ruin the moment?’

‘Start as we mean to continue, I say. And this is probably the last time we’ll have sex, too. Don’t parents always get interrupted?’

‘Then we’d better make it count.’

The rest of the night was lost to each other’s bodies. They kissed and touched and made each other laugh, found ticklish spots and accidentally kicked each other. Jean found himself entranced by Jeremy’s knees, his elbows, his slim wrists and his freckled shoulders. Hours passed where they didn’t speak, couldn’t - his lips were chafed and sore from kissing. He chased every touch, filled with an insatiable need, and Jeremy matched it with a fierce hunger of his own.

He needed more. When Jeremy licked a trail up his spine before pushing in between his legs, he filled Jean with an aching burn that made him gasp and shake. His body was on fire as the heat pressed in all around him, and he pushed back against Jeremy, seeking more.

Jeremy’s hands were on his back, his shoulders, slipping around to his chest. Little fires, scorched trails on his skin. Scarcely a word passed between them, but they were in sync. He could feel Jeremy - he knew what he’d do, how he’d move, yet it was a delicious surprise every time. He was in him, all around him, as Jean slipped into a wild, fearless version of himself that he hardly knew. Jeremy’s hands on his body were steady; they slowed him down, brought him back, before pushing him hard over the edge.

They watched the sun rise together from the bed. Jeremy had been scrolling delightedly through Madeleine’s baby photos on Jean’s phone, but now they lay in sleepy peace together as the room slowly got lighter.

Jean’s face was buried in Jeremy’s neck, his body pleasantly sore. He hadn’t slept - Jeremy was definitely too worn out to go again, but Jean couldn’t power down from the high he’d been on since Jeremy had fucked him. When he suggested an early morning walk, Jeremy readily agreed. His body may have been tired, but he was used to these hours.

Dressed in their clothes from the night before, they wandered hand in hand down the street as the early commuters rushed by and the partiers wandered home. When they stopped to look at bagel options, Jeremy put his arm around Jean’s waist and leaned on his shoulder.

‘Coffee?’ Jean suggested. When Jeremy shook his head, he added, ‘I have to get Madeleine in an hour. Come home with us for a sleep.’

Jean expected him to protest, or say he’d be intruding. He waited for it, but received only a sleepy nod and smile in return. Feeling utterly triumphant, he bought a round of bagels and juice and kissed Jeremy soundly while they waited for the traffic lights to change.

They picked up donuts and fruit for Abby on the way home as a thank you, and met her just as she was coming out her front door.

‘You’re not late!’ she assured them, swinging her handbag over her shoulder. ‘I got called in early. Now - ’ She paused, suddenly serious. ‘I let them sleep in tents, and it was a mistake. They were up nattering _all night_ and got no sleep - no, really, no sleep. What are those silly grins for?’

Jeremy handed over the donuts to a desperately grateful Wymack and cranky Kevin as Jean scooped up a bright eyed and messy-haired Madeleine from the remains of a far more humble tent city than their own.

‘Papa, I told Kevin about space.’ This was all Madeleine could manage before a glazed look passed over her face and she went very quiet. Jeremy hurried ahead to open their front door, Madeleine’s backpack now transferred to his shoulders.

Jean went to put Madeleine to bed, but she followed him right back out again, complaining. She was rubbing her eyes and not making much sense, so he picked her right back up again and took her into his own room.

‘Jeremy,’ she mumbled, holding out her arms for him. Jeremy, sprawled across the bed and half-asleep himself, rolled over on to his back and smiled up at her.

‘Cuddles,’ Jean mumbled, depositing his daughter into Jeremy’s arms. ‘Be right back.’

Out in the kitchen he chugged two glasses over water and then checked his phone quickly. He’d ignored his email for almost 24 hours, and there were a few responses he needed to look at. Once he started reading, he realised he’d need a clearer head for any of this. But his heart quickened as he saw things like, “ _Can’t wait to have you on board”_ and “ _very excited about your work”._ Jean glanced over his shoulder towards his bedroom, where his family was waiting for him. He looked around at the small kitchen, the tiny apartment, from their height chart to the princess unicorn doll house to the blue cake tin Jeremy had started leaving in their kitchen, so they could safely store all their leftover baked goods. He’d do wonders in a real kitchen. Jean’s mind had been racing ahead for weeks but now he reigned it in, and returned to the bedroom.

The lights were off and the curtains drawn. Jeremy’s bare feet were sticking out at the end of the bed, and Madeleine tiny form topped by her cloud of dark hair was tucked up against his body. Jean got in beside them and gathered them in against his chest, three peas in a pod. Ballerina Tigger was in there somewhere too; Jean could feel the skirt against his leg.

Jeremy threaded his fingers through Jean’s, and let them rest on Madeleine’s other side. She was drifting off, only pausing to give him a little look and to snuggle down against Jeremy.

‘Love you,’ Jean whispered.

Two whispered replies brushed his skin as soft as a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took FAR TOO LONG to finish, I had it finished in my head months ago and what do you mean I have to write it??? Anyways the comments on this fic have been literally mindblowing and far more than I deserve so holy heck than you so much.
> 
> That's all the fluff for now. Angst will continue until moral improves. 
> 
> throws roses at u all

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://thetrojeans.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/lazarusthefirst/)


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